365 Prompts for Rachel Mason
by praticallyperfectpoppins
Summary: This will be a collection of one-shots based off of a prompt list I've found. They will centre mainly around the character Rachel Mason but they include a range of characters in the show. Please have a look and accept this as an apology for updating Dear Eddie so slowly... Hope you enjoy!
1. New Beginnings

**New Beginnings**

Contract, proposal, notebook. Papers stacked upon papers. Yet, always neat and tidy within her satchel.

It was a daunting sight. But a formidable reputation was not earned with cowardice. Rachel Mason knew that. She was anxious to start, grateful for the opportunity she'd been given. It was exactly what she had needed.

Her eye caught the list of notable staff members. It rested on her secondary, her new colleague. Edward Lawson.

All good things.

She trusted that instinct- all would be fine and she would be successful. It was a fool-proof plan. And if they thought otherwise, she would tell them where to stick it.

Waterloo Road.

The name made her smile.

* * *

I'm struggling to stream WR online and get the script done for Dear Eddie. So, while you're waiting, I've been doing these prompts. Please accept these as an apology.


	2. Window

**Window**

The familiar thud of the door.

Somewhere in the antechamber, Rachel could hear his voice. Joyce was lightly berating him for something, whatever he had brought that had interrupted her work. There was a deep laugh. Rumbling and familiar. She felt it.

A smile tugged on her lips and she caught sight of his blazer in the corner of the window.

"I'll let you off this once," Joyce's voice was heard, somewhere in the corner.

"You're a star, Joyce."

There was a rustle. Craning her neck, she noticed that he had backed into view. The glass pane half pulled back from earlier. He glanced through, a smirk forming at the silent conversation that passed between them.

Rachel smiled too. It had been a long week. They had hardly seen each other, too occupied with the rush of deadlines. But at least they had that moment.

She often berated Joyce for leaving the small window open when they were working. It often distracted her. For once, Rachel was grateful to be distracted.


	3. Peace of Mind

**Peace of Mind**

It had taken a while. Longer than expected. Around forty years, to be exact.

Yet, she had found it. Among the decaying corridors and the faint echo of children's chatter that forever reverberated. It had seemed like any other time, any other place. Not anymore.

If someone had told her that this would be the case, she would have laughed. It had been another day at the office. Or so it had seemed.

She weaved her way through the maze of corridors, the same way she always went, only stopping when she came to the entrance of it all. The stained glass reflected a stretch of light across the plain floor. Almost ethereal.

Rachel saw the red and yellow sign, those interlinking letters, and she found peace there.


	4. Unrequited Love

**Unrequited Love**

There had been the fights, the times they had refused to acknowledge the other. There had been the students, her past, his past and his children, the ex-wife. Hordley, Mellor, the fire…

She had immersed herself in the painful memories, but it had never hurt. Not really. Because even then she had hope. There had always been him.

Now, she saw her greatest adversary. It had been a surprise and yet, she wasn't surprised at all.

Rachel saw the way he smiled, the way his eyes followed her sister. It had hurt more than anything else ever had. But how could she blame him?

They weren't meant to be. Simple, really.

* * *

Also, if anyone has any prompt ideas that they want to see done, let me know. I could probably fit it in somewhere


	5. Speed

**Speed**

It was over before it had begun.

They had kissed for the first time and before she knew it, Rachel was looking at him from across the playground. It seemed wrong to see him alone.

With his usual stance, hands in pockets and an apologetic grimace, he seemed to look at her with more love than she had ever seen before.

She felt that love, completely consumed with the feeling. Surrounded by her students and staff, all chanting the name of the school that was left in shambles behind them, she saw him far away. And yet, she had never felt closer to him.

To her Eddie.

Because he had been hers. For a short moment.

Their relationship had been short-lived but blissful. Rachel could never forget that bliss. She wouldn't forget him, not for a long time.

* * *

I have some less angsty posts coming up, I promise. They're just so easy to make angsty though...


	6. Mayhem

**Mayhem**

It was madness.

There were girls everywhere, pulling at each other, shrieking. And amid them all, she saw the two responsible. Rachel wished she was surprised.

Blazers half-off and hair torn, Michaela and Lindsey were practically clawing at each other. Nothing needed to be said for her to know it was their doing. Some civil war. Silly, immature… And yet, impossible to quash.

Almost an indication of how she felt whenever she saw him. Like a ghost, pale, serious, and mournful. She wished it was as simple as pulling hair.

He met her eye across the grass. Still so serious. And now, furious. He needn't say anything. This was her fault. Rachel could hear the accusation, distinctly in his voice.

Reaching across, she pulled the girls apart, more forceful than intended. No, this was their fault.

This was their doing and if it wasn't theirs, it was his. She would not allow the blame to rest on her lap. Rachel was not accountable for the havoc that they had brought with them.


	7. Gild the Lily

**Gild the Lily**

After so many years, the impact became clear. Slowly but surely. Tell yourself it will be different this time and one is surely to believe it. Rachel did.

She had been given another chance. Counted those blessings and thanked God. All for that moment that Eddie had stood before her, grey and hardened by those years apart.

"We have one more chance, Rachel. Let's take it."

To respond in the negative had never been an option. They had both grasped the opportunity with both hands.

It had been fine, happy even. But the past was hard to forget, especially for someone like her. She needed assurance. He was assurance in himself, but that was still not enough.

It scared her. Those momentary lapses of concentration on something else, someone, anyone. The seconds they spent not talking after an argument. He was unhappy. He had to be.

She was happy but even so, she wasn't. A conflict that she could never win. All he had to do was tell her again, all those feelings he had shared before, and she reminded herself that this time would be different. Nothing was wrong. How could it be…


	8. First Romance

**First Romance**

Her first love was painful, lonely, confusing. He had told her he loved her. Like a fool, she believed him. She was only seventeen; why wouldn't she?

He had hurt her. Physically, mentally, emotionally. He had sold her to the highest bidder and forgotten her existence.

Even now, she doubted he remembered her name. But she would never forget his. She carried that mistake for the rest of her life.

….

His first love had been fitting, devoted, and most importantly, loving. He had felt it with his whole being and he was sure she felt the same. What a perfect way to start university, to start his life.

There had been the flowers, the dates, the kisses. Those that had been light as a feather and some, as hot as the fire inside him. His love for her.

If someone asked him now, he would recall it fondly. Why wouldn't he? They had been each other's completely, but one must move on. People go their separate ways and that was to be expected. For years to come, he would fondly recall the time they had spent together. No regret.


	9. Vessel

**Vessel**

Pina coladas, pornstar martinis… Rachel concurred that she had had enough to drink. At least, when it came to alcohol. Not that Eddie had taken any notice.

He held up a bottle of wine he had just ordered at the bar.

"Eh?" When she had said nothing, he raised it up with a grin. "Eh?"

"Eddie, please…"

"Don't tell me you've had enough already. We've barely gotten started."

"This isn't a competition."

He furrowed his brow, placing down the bottle. "I'll get you some water, give it a while, then straight back at it, Mason."

She rubbed her temples, trying to dispel the migraine she was going to have the next morning.

"Eddie, we're on a cruise," she reasoned. "It's supposed to be relaxing."

He huffed. "That's loser talk."

Rachel could barely form an argument before he returned to the bar. She might have been irritated, but he did acquire her a jug of water. And another pina colada.


	10. Disillusionment

**Disillusionment**

Engrossed in the moment, it seemed simple. There were only smiles and the usual jest that often accompanied them.

Eddie had been shy. It had been a while since they had been able to speak, properly at least. He had missed it, making a point to linger. Even have a coffee.

She had missed him too. Rachel had sat with him on the sofa, sipping her own coffee as he rambled about which kid had sworn at him today. The same one she had seen as she passed the cooler. It all made her chuckle.

They had met each other's eye, longer than usual. The look in his was intense; hers was confused. Still, there was a determination in both.

"There you are!"

Melissa laughed lightly, dropping between them, her gaze darting unsuspectingly to both. Her smile reflected her genuine love for both and they were ashamed.

This was not the time.


	11. Dancing

**Dancing**

Cheap flashing lights in primary colours, a juice bowl, and the stench of adolescent bodies as they jumped endlessly in one spot. It was to be expected- they were at a school dance.

Rachel crossed her arms, conscious of the defensive stance, and felt a smile tug at her lips. Watching them, unbothered by how they appeared in their elation, it never failed to make her laugh. She enjoyed those moments. Even if they were not peaceful. She made the peace on her own accord.

"Mad, aren't they?" His voice was a welcome distraction.

"Only a little," she grinned.

It felt unnatural to have such a genuine smile on her face. But it was welcome, all the same.

Eddie continued to stare at her, while she watched the students. "Need some air?"

She followed him outside. The cool air was refreshing, even as she shivered slightly, and she watched him step down the stone onto the car park. Rachel traced his steps, unsure of why she did.

The beat of the music was still heard. It pulsated against the brick walls, a noisy but cheerful distraction. Neither heard; they were talking. Discussing all those little things about themselves. Not once stopping until the reverberating stopped, and a slow melody began to play.

Eddie held out his hand, too hopeful for his own good. "Want to dance?"

Perhaps she was also too optimistic. "Yes, of course."

Yet, when the song had finished, neither stepped away. It seemed too cruel and unnecessary. So, they stayed there.


	12. Different Ways of Thinking

**Different Ways of Thinking**

She said no. Was it not the headmistress who had the final say? Clearly not, if he had anything to do with it.

Rachel told him this was the last time, signing the document with a flourish. A name that she never grew tired of seeing. Looking up, he was less pleased.

That familiar scowl, those eyes that avoided hers to refrain her from seeing the tantrum bubbling beneath the surface. He scoffed, the only response he was able to give.

She smiled up at him. Bat the eyelids, continue smiling, and perhaps he will forget his anger. Leave her alone. But he wasn't fooled. It couldn't have been clearer to her that Mr Lawson resented her presence at the school.

"It will be good for them," he insisted. "Trips like this have been really successful. It will straighten them out."

Sighing, she tried to be diplomatic. "No doubt you mean well, Eddie. But I won't allow it. You're lucky Jack signed for this because I never would have."

With that, he stormed out of the office, taking the signed document with him. She listened to his residing footsteps. Leaning back in her chair, she wondered if they would ever be friends. Even acquaintances. He did not want to be acquainted with her, that much was clear.

Rachel wished she knew how to please him.


	13. Consequence

**Consequence**

Mocking, that internal reiteration which continued to haunt her. One might assume it happened when she was a teen, lonesome and entrapped within the vice of London. But she had been misused before that.

All of those words, misgivings, that she labelled herself.

Here they were. Echoing in the hall, settling into the atmosphere where only silence was the answer.

Rachel was atop the stage and in the spotlight for all to see. Some tragedy unfolding there. And she stood at the centre, ready to take the final bow.

But there was no applause. Only those words that she knew she would never forget.

_Amanda Fenshaw. Prostitute. On her back. _

That name felt so distant, unreal. It wasn't her name. Her name was Rachel Mason.

Yet, she knew what was to happen. She would take the consequence of someone else's misdeeds. A person she never knew. But something had to be done. She would not allow anybody to slander her name, not this time.

Rachel Mason did not take anything lying down.


	14. Gratitude

**Gratitude**

The faint smell of beer on his breath; she was sure she smelt the same.

How many bottles sat on their table, she wasn't sure. And Rachel made no attempt to find out. She was having fun. Her, of all people.

Eddie's arm stretched across the back of the seat, a circular booth they had chosen for privacy. God knows they needed it after the day they'd had. But with each drink, the remnants of the day were forgotten and they were left with each other.

Rachel laughed, feeling the way her chest moved uncontrollably with each sound. Her hand reached out, entwining itself with his.

It was dreary weather, the pub was shabby, and she was happy.

Not forever but for the time being. Until they were ushered out by the landlord, at least. Then they would return home together and like every night, she would send her blessings to whatever universal force allowed this to happen.


	15. Explosion

**Explosion**

A sound that had never been heard before. Not by Rachel.

She had no clue what it was, already searching for reassurance in Eddie's eyes. Yet, he was as concerned as her, his own confusion visible.

Then a sound she feared. The fire alarm.

Surely, this was not good. That sound could mean only one thing and Rachel could barely grasp what this meant.

From beneath her, the floor of the office shook, the walls shuddering. Then the trampling of numerous footsteps as the students left their class. She could hear their teacher's shouting among the ruckus, telling them to keep calm.

But Rachel needed someone to reassure her.

Eddie reached across, his fingers grazing her wrist. "You go downstairs, I'll check up here."

"Yes… That would be best."

It had all seemed confusing, when left alone with her own thoughts, but there was nothing here to question. She knew what she must do.

The students' safety came first.

* * *

I uploaded the wrong chapter! Ah, I'm such an idiot. Here's the right one! Thanks to anon for pointing that out and thanks for the review :)


	16. Money

**Money**

"How do you do it?"

"I couldn't imagine having to deal with that."

"You're a saint."

"I bet the income helps a lot."

Rachel winced at every compliment. Usually, she revelled in praise. Easily swayed by a little bit of flattery. It never hurt, after all.

But with time, she had come to find it distasteful. Not only was it impertinent toward her, but toward the students. And nobody disrespected her children.

People always wanted to ask why she did it- what the benefits were for her. As if she could never have done this by choice. But the answer was more complex, more personal, than she ever cared to admit.

So, she smiled. Gave that sparkling laugh that was so commonplace for her; the governors were particularly fond of it. And she told them it was because she loved it.

Not a lie. Yet, that was the most congenial answer.

Like a pageant queen, she stood there and made peace. With herself, the students, the parents, the world.

She did it so no other child would have to experience what she had, that they would never have to claw their way through life to gain even a semblance of education. One that others would take for granted. Children should never have to beg for life. Sell themselves wantonly for the world to see, where adults still refused to help them.

Rachel would not be that adult. She did it because she cared; she loved them, cared for them.

It was never about the acclaim, her career, the money…

No.

It was always about the children.


	17. Travelling Alone

**Travelling Alone**

Craning her neck, turning this way and that, she kept staring until he was no longer in sight.

Rachel leant back in the chair, barely aware of what was happening around her. The commotion, the excited chanting of the students, seemed like nothing. Each sound failing to reach her.

Like a void; a black hole of her own making.

She sat in silence, not realising that Jasmine was speaking to her. All she could manage was a continual stare out of the window. Buildings passed her by, flickering into nothing but obscurity. Appropriate, considering how she felt.

Her fingers brushed against the watch on her wrist. The groove of the chain and the raised surface of its face. It hardly registered to her. She thought only of the man who gave it to her.

Eddie.

Kind, caring, foolish Eddie.

Make too many mistakes and it was bound to have repercussions. They should have known better.

Rachel had kissed him and felt the finality. Felt that unsaid goodbye. She wished she could hate her sister, hate him. But she knew she couldn't.

Surrounded by people, knowing he would wait for her return, she had never felt more alone. Perhaps not true. But when one finally discovered happiness, it was hard to let that go.

The clock was ticking. Rachel had to say goodbye at some point.


	18. Irony

**Irony**

"So, you and Eddie will be sorting out the disco then?"

Steph was standing at the doorway, as if to block any chance of escape. She tried to look innocent- or at least, unsuspecting- but Rachel wasn't fooled. Her knowing smile gave her away. Repressing the urge to roll her eyes, Rachel took a moment to collect herself before responding.

The edge of her mouth twitched, a frown slowly developing. "Yes, we are. I was talked into it."

No questions as to who had convinced her; they already knew the answer. Steph's smile said as much. Clasping her hands together, she sensed blood in the water, lunging for her prey with seasoned precision.

"You two will be alone then?" she probed, that feigned innocence so clear. "I suppose you two work well together. We wouldn't want any interruptions."

As if they had been caught together in the toilets, like a pair of teenagers. Rachel wouldn't satisfy that with an answer.

Irritated, she met Steph's questioning gaze. "Jasmine and Matt will be there too. Did you really think we would watch all those kids alone?"

"Well, somebody has to watch them," she laughed. "While you're distracted."

Rachel wouldn't rise to the bait, knowing that sentence was unfinished. Even if she was distracted, she was a professional. Her work came first. Steph was highly aware of that fact and yet, she was never able to keep her mouth shut.

"I never get distracted, Steph." Rachel felt her mouth twitch, a motion that may have been considered a smile. "You know that."

Steph turned around, wiggling her shoulders, that knowing smile unfaltering. "I'm sure you'll have fun either way."

Sitting on the edge of the desk, Rachel watched her leave, slight amusement rising amid her irritation. She called after the departing teacher, unbothered by the little game they were planning. They had been here before.

"Oh, don't worry. I will."

* * *

All of the stories I wrote for this prompt were hard to do, so sorry if it's not great.


	19. Lust

**Lust**

Three years. So much can change in that amount of time. And it had.

Rachel could see the peppered grey, even from across the room. Up close, she ran her fingers through, a familiar gesture that caused her pulse to quicken. Soothing and exhilarating, all at once.

She tried to calm her nerves, the short bursts of air passing through her lips as her chest heaved up and down. Emotions that she was unable to process and yet, had thought of countless times in the years gone by.

It was happening. Again.

Eddie left a trail of kisses down her neck, along her shoulders, past her breasts, and to her stomach. She had gained weight, that belly a little looser. Faint pink stretching across her stomach in jagged lines. It had crossed her mind for a moment, waiting for his reaction to the state of her body. Those little things that had changed.

He said nothing. Apart from how beautiful she was, those words that always felt natural when he said them. Besides, he had seen it all before.

His stomach hung too; the hair upon his chest curling in greyed wisps. How long it had been, she thought, even for three years.

With the care and precision he was known for, he kissed along her thighs. His breath against her skin made her shudder. One hand reached up and took hers, bringing it down to rest upon her stomach.

Without a word, he asked her if she was certain. Rachel had always been certain. He could see it in her eyes.

The slight touch was enough to unravel her. A feeling that she had been sorely missing when he left. She could feel his apology, the admittance that he had missed her too, all in the care he took.

Releasing a low moan, she gripped his fingers tighter. She yearned for him, evident in the heat radiating from her body to his mouth.

Sometimes, things were better left unsaid. They had each other, suspended within this moment in time. Three years was a long time for one night.

* * *

Hey guys, let me know if there's anything you like or don't like. I'm actually enjoying this little snippets into Rachel's life; she's super interesting. Anyway, have a good day!


	20. Identity Crisis

**Identity Crisis**

Washing away the sins of yesterday, water passing by. Swirling into the drain.

Am… No, Rachel watched the way the water curled, twirling itself into confusion before dropping into the abyss beneath. She wished it were that easy for her.

Sharing a flat with other young women, her case worker had left her there. To think of her past, present, and future. All indistinguishable. It felt like it would never end, even though it was already over.

A new shiny name and a new life.

That was all she had hoped for and yet, some feeling unsettled her. Deep within her chest. What would happen to her father now? Melissa? Already removed from her home and put into care, where not even her own sister could reach her.

What a mess she had made of things.

This new chance had seemed promising, at first, but the more she thought of it, the more she wanted to scream. A paper somewhere said she didn't exist. That Amanda Fenshaw might as well be dead.

And in so many ways, she was.

Who even was this new person? A persona she had adorned, only to find it was two sizes too big. What expectations lay in wait for this woman? An individual that had been born at nineteen years of age.

She wished she knew.

Rachel Mason was born in this flat. In this bathtub. Sobbing her way into her new existence as the water above lashed at her head, not considerate enough to drown her.


	21. Being Replaced

**Being Replaced**

There was no hurry. Rachel would not be rushed, not today. She would savour each second until she had none left.

Papers upon papers, still presentable after all this time. Boxes, neatly packed with all of her possessions, piled high in her office.

No, not her office anymore. Someone else's.

She almost wished she could be upset, but this was not the time for sorrow. Nor for regrets. A ring on her finger, a promise of something greater on the horizon. Rachel wouldn't let such an opportunity slip through her fingers, not this time.

How funny, she thought. To have been so determined the first time she had stepped into her office, to do everything she had planned to.

It hadn't mattered in the end. She had done the best she could and nobody could take that from her. Having made new enemies and friends along the way, reconciled with her estranged nephew (she was yet to decide on her sister), experienced a relationship she would forever treasure, and allowed her past to guide her future. For the better.

Who would have thought? Not her, she realised with a laugh.

There was no place for regret in this office. Slightly cracked on one wall where the explosion had unsettled the structure, her favourite lilac coating the wall where a particular deputy had determinedly painted it himself. Notes, in her writing, some left from Eddie, some from other staff members. All now tucked in her satchel.

Boxes being carried out of her office with the help of her new husband and her faithful deputy. Both huffing about the weight. How unnecessary it was. She paid them no mind. Rachel would do what she wanted.

With the last box, she stopped Adam, taking the only item left from the desk. Her nameplate that had been unscrewed from the door.

Rachel Mason- headmistress.

Yes, she was. And she always would be.

Slipping it on top of the box, she let him take it. She surveyed the empty office with mixed feelings, only the desk, the sofa, and the circular table to its name. And that lovely colour on the wall. A mixture of feelings she could never pinpoint rising in her chest, causing her lips to twitch upward in a smile. Contemplative, grateful. Content.

A note left on the desk for whoever occupied it next; certain rumours said it was Karen Fisher. Leaving her own words of encouragement in the hope their time here would be as life-changing.

_Good luck!_

_P.S. If you need me, I will be somewhere across the world drinking Shiraz. _


	22. Jealousy

**Jealousy**

"Isn't it just beautiful, Rachel?"

Blinking, she tried to focus on the jewel in front of her. That lovely, sparkling diamond that sat atop a silver ring.

_Isn't it just…_

A little blurred, Rachel questioned if she had helped herself too many times to the congratulatory champagne. Well, it was free. However, Steph and Grantly were the only ones that had managed to match her drinking, so perhaps it was wise to stop.

Gaze flickering to Eddie's face, the way he was grinning, ear to ear. Even as there was something serious in the way he stared.

Losing her nerve, she looked down into the bubbles that rose to the surface of her drink. Shimmering a dazzling gold.

"Yes, it's lovely…" She knew she must say something else. "I wouldn't expect anything less for my sister."

Melissa was happy. That was all that mattered. Did she care if he was happy too? Naturally. But those feelings were a little more complicated.

Rachel took another swig of her drink, although a second ago she had decided she wouldn't. Perhaps her problem was that she was never satisfied.


	23. Insanity

**Insanity**

One fight, two staff complaints, a broken-down minibus, and now her private coffee machine didn't seem to be working. Typical.

Rachel had been forced to visit the staffroom, pleased to see there was hardly anybody there. She took a few minutes to breathe, listening to the low rumble of the kettle. Glancing inside one of the nearby mugs, she realised she had made a mistake. It was filthy.

Only one more day until the weekend.

Returning to her office, she relished the silence, the lapse of activity that followed as she simply walked through the corridors. Nobody bothered her. Finally, everything seemed to be going the way she wanted.

Her skirt brushed against the seat, so close to sitting down, when that foreboding rustle of trousers were heard. She placed her mug down on the desk, sighing heavily.

"What is it?" she barely managed to say before he rambled over her.

"Kim has only gone and misplaced my bid. I knew we shouldn't have worked together; she's too distracted with her own problems. I spent ages on that…"

He continued to rant, his hands sliding into his pockets. Must be serious, she thought. Head in hands, the sight of her trying to gain some semblance of peace went unnoticed by him. Eddie was still ranting, pacing around the room. Rachel added another note to her to-do list.

Somebody had to be logical in all this insanity.


	24. A Snowy Day

**A Snowy Day**

They had made it. Just about.

Balancing an open bag of folders, Rachel made her way precariously to the carpark. There had been weather warnings, red covering the majority of the country. She had expected the worst and found that they had been fine, until the last hour.

A constant stream of snow falling, nestling atop her coat, her hair, and the plastic folders. It looked so pretty. For now. Rachel was sure she would feel differently when it came to work tomorrow.

Stepping on a thin layer of ice, her heel slipped, almost sending her head first into the gravel.

"Enjoy your trip?"

She grimaced, glaring across at her deputy, who was walking quite securely across the carpark.

"Very funny." Her tone suggested otherwise.

He heaved the bag from her arms, an eyebrow rising as if to question why she needed so many folders.

"I was thinking we could have a curry tonight," he suggested, "Something to keep us warm. What, with the snow and all that."

"I'm sure we can find other ways to keep warm, Mr Lawson."

Eyes wide, he was too busy staring at her to notice where he was going. Stumbling sideways, he almost fell onto his back. She grabbed onto his sleeve, praying she didn't fall with him. He straightened back up, his ears glowing red.

"Enjoy your trip?" she asked, a smile tugging at her lips.

He scoffed. "Shut it, Mason."

She burst into laughter, his ears only getting redder at the sound. Rachel hoped they had a day off work tomorrow. They needed some alone time.


	25. Sculpture

**Sculpture**

Excited chatter, buzzing across the room as if there were a multitude of bees. Somewhere in the background, raucous laughter.

Rachel concentrated on that rather than whatever was in front of her. She had been glad to oversee the arts evening, insisting that she would be more than happy. Tom was thrilled to have the evening free, promising her that he would work hours elsewhere.

Not that she was bothered.

"Hm… Melancholy, deep sadness. That's what I'm feeling from this." Eddie stepped beside her, arms folded as he stared down at one of the student's sculptures. "A feeling I can't begin to describe in words."

Rachel chuckled. "That's because you know nothing about art."

"You may be right."

Raising a brow, she warned him to behave himself. He smirked, turning his attention back to the array of clay models.

"I do know that I am confused and I guess that's what art is about," he stated, trying to sound a little too confident.

They stood in silence for a moment, letting the lively atmosphere drown out their conversation. A minute later, Eddie pointed at one of the sculptures sitting at the back.

"What does that look like?"

She nudged him in the side, beginning to walk onto the next section, tone chastising.

"Eddie! Don't be so rude."


	26. The Letter

**The Letter**

Taking his time, as if prolonging the inevitable would somehow change everything. A foolish notion, he was a grown man now. He knew better.

The hallways were silent, the rustle of papers the only sound. Emanating from Eddie Lawson's classroom.

Typical, he thought. Untouched by Mellor's rampage, he had been given a week to clear his belongings from the classroom. Granted by the builders who had assessed the suitability of the building.

So many regrets that he couldn't begin to voice, to comprehend, and so many memories. Faces flashing in his mind, desk to desk. He glanced to the glass pane at the door, expecting to see her standing there. It didn't matter if she was angry or happy. All that mattered is that she would be there.

Too late now.

Dropping a notebook to the floor, he cursed, bending over to pick it up. A small slip of paper fell from between the pages, his name etched across the front.

Eddie couldn't remember what it was for. Reading the quick scribble, the elegant cursive that he would recognise anywhere.

_Smile. We're having steak tonight- your favourite! See you later. R _

A simple but poignant message, in retrospect. Eddie stared at it blankly, his attention on only one thing. Realising that minutes had passed, he pocketed the paper inside his jacket pocket, the one close to the left side of his chest. Grabbing some nearby folders, he allowed himself a moment to be distracted.

Eddie would miss the way she wrote his name.


	27. Smoke, Fog, Haze

**Smoke, Fog, and Haze**

Choking, she questioned if she was paralysed. Her mind asked her to lift an arm, a leg, her head. Anything. But her body remained where it was.

Staring up at the ceiling, her eyes were wide open, even if her body didn't respond. She could see the smoke encasing her, wrapping her tight until she couldn't breathe. Flashes of black, orange, grey… Somewhere in the distance, there were piercing screams.

Were they the students? Or were they hers?

Mouth open, she inhaled the obscurity around her, tasting the bitterness on her tongue. Coursing through her until she couldn't breathe anymore.

"No, stop!"

Her own voice roused her from sleep. Chest heaving, beads of sweat on her forehead as she blinked heavily in the dark. The lamp from the other side of the bed turned on and she felt hands tugging at her, gentle but firm.

She fell onto Eddie's chest, letting one arm hold her to him, his other hand brushing through her hair.

"It's okay," he was saying. "I'm here."

He kissed the top of her head, his nose burying in her hair. She inhaled his scent. So different to the aroma that followed a burning building, gas filtering from the kitchen. He smelt like comfort and safety.

Wrapped in his arms, exhausted mutterings of reassurance, that's how she fell asleep. This time she slept in soothing nothingness.


	28. Closed Doors

**Closed Doors**

First, it had been a senior staff meeting, then Joyce had come in to have the remnants of last week's paperwork finished. Steph had been at the door, trying to explain her latest shenanigans and why it had been such a good idea at the time.

Then Kim, asking to have a coffee and share tidbits of their personal life. She had complained about one of the students in second period but mentioned how well Karla was doing with her art. Before she left, she had thrown in a comment about Eddie's behaviour.

Joyce was back again for more paperwork, listing new demands from her boss before returning to her desk.

Two students were sent to her about a particularly rough fight, another student with a petition about saving electricity, and one with their parents accompanying them. Something about lack of attendance, bad behaviour, and possible exclusion.

After lunch, Eddie came in, seemingly pleased compared to the day she'd had. The coffee machine was turned on again and another cup was made. Sat together, sides pressed against one another, he reached around and massaged one shoulder. Hoping that made her feel better. It did a little.

With a quick kiss and an 'I love you', he was gone. Whistling some tune she didn't recognise.

Rachel considered closing the office door behind him, tempted to finally have some quiet. But she knew better than that. As soon as she closed it, someone else would only open it with an emergency. She thought it best to keep it open.


	29. Wonder

** Wonder**

A day that always created mixed feelings. Some of her students were elated, others disappointed, and there was always two that cried.

Rachel walked among the throng of students and their parents, pristine envelopes in hand. From what she could see, it was mainly positive. Good, she thought; it's what they deserve. It was a year of hard work. At one point, even Rachel thought she may break. But here they all were.

Results day for Waterloo Road was finally a positive day.

She could see Eddie sitting at the alphabetised table, handing out envelopes. He was smiling- a good sign. So was Steph. A not so good sign. Grantly seemed to be almost asleep; Tom was handing out his envelopes for him.

Rolling her eyes, Rachel decided she didn't mind this once. She had wanted to boost the school's success but she had also wanted the student's to better themselves. To build their own future.

The grin as they opened the envelope, the shared hugs, congratulations, and promises of a place at university, that was enough to keep Rachel satisfied. It never failed to amaze her when they proved her right.


	30. War and Peace

**War and Peace**

Max was insufferable.

Making his way around the desk, deliberately slow. His fingers brushing against the wood, rustling papers, until he came to a stop in front of her. She made a point to finish the sentence she was writing before gracing him with her attention.

"I will sort out that boy in the cooler," he said, matter-of-factly. "You can stay here and finish the report since you've already started it."

The report he hadn't checked. Clearly, he had other priorities. Like making the children scrub the front steps with a bucket of soapy water.

"His name is Ronan," she managed to answer, teeth gritted.

"Ah, yes. That's the one." Even while he left, that pompous smirk never left his face.

Minutes later, Kim appeared, glancing around as if Rachel was not the person she was looking for. It did not go unnoticed. Rachel felt her mouth twitch, finger tapping the air above the keyboard rather than the keys. A nervous spasm.

"He isn't here."

"Oh." Kim didn't seem too disappointed. "That doesn't matter. It would be nice to have a chat, just us girls."

Rachel supposed that would be nice. Closing her laptop, she joined Kim on the sofa with two freshly-made coffees. Chatter filled the office. Disturbing the silence, the tension that had overwhelmed her sanctuary until it was unbearable. With Kim here, there was only comfort. Even if they studiously avoided a certain subject, or rather, a certain someone.

She could hardly understand how the two were attracted to each other.

* * *

I have another opening for commissions, so if you're interested, please let me know. I'll do short stories like these but I also do fully-fledged fics and multi-chapters. For Waterloo Road, I do have some examples on here; Dear Eddie and The Night Always Ends being the most recent. I also do other fandoms so let me know if you're interested in something else and either way, I'll discuss rates with you.


	31. Dream

**Dream**

Barely awake, last night's dream was already coming to mind, flashing in bits and pieces in her memory. It certainly had been a good one, that was for sure. She felt as though she could still feel his kisses on her lips, on her neck. On her body.

Flushing at the thought, she hadn't even opened her eyes yet, wishing that she could fall back into whatever her subconscious had in wait for her.

A perfect fantasy- Phil had conveniently left them alone and even better, Rachel had won a game of bowling. Eddie had been furious. If not a little abated by a kiss. Finishing the game, they had returned to Rachel's house and made good use of a house with an absent nephew.

Rachel questioned what Eddie would think if he knew what she dreamt about.

Eyes fluttering open, the early morning light barely lit up the room. She noticed the fluff of greying hair, the broad shoulders, and the light snore against her pillow. His face millimetres away, his arm bent up to rest his hand against the back of hers.

Her cheeks only reddened more at the sight, although her lips eventually curved into a content smile. Foolish of her to think it could only have been a dream. That this couldn't be reality.

But here he was. And there she was too, lying beside him. The moment broken seconds later by a sharp grunt from Eddie as he slept.


	32. Betrayal

**Betrayal**

How quickly one look could change everything. Not the look itself but what it found. Pregnancy was usually a joyous occasion, a reason for celebration, but this felt nothing more than a mockery. A nice little 'screw you' without anything ever being said.

Eddie left, hurt and dejected. Head hanging low, he knew when he was defeated. This once.

Rachel turned around, the door closing resolutely between her and the life she had built in those past few months. Coming face-to-face with a living nightmare. A very real, tangible Melissa, that friendly smile that now seemed so smug. Vicious.

But that wasn't what hurt the most, her hand resting on a perfectly rounded stomach. Protruding outward as if she were a balloon, full of hot air and nothing else. Wishful thinking to hope she would float away and never come back.

She wished she didn't feel that way about her own sister, though what else could she do? What could possibly be said or done to reverse this mess?

This was the worst mistake Melissa had ever made, coming to rest neatly on her and Eddie's lap. Silently asking them to tidy away what she had done. But that wouldn't work this time.

Rachel had never felt so betrayed.


	33. Rules

**Rules**

Two steps at a time, Eddie remembered that he hadn't eaten any breakfast. Too late now. The cafeteria was closed and there was another hour and a half till break. Huffing, slightly out of breath, he skidded onto the landing, reaching out an arm to open the door.

"Cutting it a little close, Mr Lawson."

He spun around, feeling the tops of his ears turn red. Rachel was staring at him, brow raised, arms crossed. The smirk on her face a confirmation that she wasn't as annoyed as she sounded.

"I, erm…"

"You missed form time. I had to get cover." She dropped her arms to her side, sighing. "I don't expect this kind of behaviour from you."

Eddie wanted to be witty, to say something that would make her blush. But it was too early in the morning and he'd hardly had any sleep. Or his morning coffee.

"Well, I insisted that I needed to go home and get the work for today but, oh no, we just had to go back to yours." He felt himself ramble on, her grin growing wider with each word. "So, of course we woke up late and of course I couldn't find one of my folders. Then I forgot where I put my keys and I didn't have time for coffee…"

"Then perhaps you can come finish your excuses at break time. There'll be some coffee waiting."

He blinked sleepily, only focusing on the hint of coffee. "That would be great."

She was already returning back to her office, peering over her shoulder at him with a wicked smile. "But don't be late again, please. If the kids have to be on time then so do you."

Eddie stared after her, no retort in mind. He wished he knew how to say no to her. Then perhaps he would have gotten some coffee and a good night's sleep.


	34. Tomorrow

**Tomorrow**

Finally. The last day of the summer term was upon them, promising six weeks of heavenly bliss. Whatever that comprised of. For Rachel, she was merely happy to have gotten through her first year at Waterloo Road. Nothing had stopped her. Not even Hordley.

Grinning, she rounded the corner, nearly bumping into a scowling Eddie. Hands in his pockets, he glanced across at her. Sullen, no doubt, from his shift in the corridors during break-time.

"Smile," she grinned. "It's nearly over."

He scoffed, watching the students pass. "I won't be happy till the bell rings tomorrow, at the end of the day."

Rachel wouldn't let him dampen her mood, thinking of the spelling bee competition and the football match with Forest Mount. They were going to crush them.

"Well, I, for one, am looking forward to tomorrow," she told him. His raised brow only made her smile more. "I don't know what it is but I have a good feeling about it. It'll be a day to remember."

She was already moving on, brushing past him. With a grin tugging at his lips, he called after her.

"Oh, yeah? You're starting to sound like an optimist."

Rachel flashed him one last smile before she left, enjoying the banter. Yet, there was plenty to be done before the next day started. She would make sure this term ended with a bang; the students deserved that much. And so did she.


	35. Rock n' Roll

**Rock n' Roll**

Her heart thumped in time with the music, the bass reverberating through the floor and her body. She almost felt as if she were shaking too. Wincing, she gripped the plastic cup tighter, glancing up at Eddie. He was too busy staring at the band.

A man crush, she had called it. The tips of his ears had turned red. A long-term fan was how he would phrase it.

They hadn't been out in a while and Rachel knew she owed him that much, but she hadn't been expecting this. Not when he had promised her a night of music. A concert where you could sit down, a live singer at a restaurant, or a musical. Any of those other suggestions would have been fine by her.

She should have known better.

He peered across, noting the downward slant of her mouth, the way she frowned up at the lighted stage. Eddie slid an arm around her waist, pulling her closer.

"One more song and then we'll go, if you want." He knew he should have asked her first. At least checked if this was what she enjoyed.

Rachel appreciated the effort, standing on her toes to reach his ear.

"No, it's fine," she shouted back. "When you said rock, this isn't what I had in mind. I thought you meant… You know. More Elvis or Stevie."

Eddie looked sincerely apologetic. "I'm sorry. I should have said it was a Metallica tribute band."

Kissing him on the cheek, she rested her head against his shoulder. At least one ear was covered.

"It doesn't matter," she told him. "You're having fun and I promised we'd spend the night together. So, let's make the most of it."

With a grin, he kissed the top of her head, turning his attention back to the band. Rachel glanced down into her cup. If they were planning to stay, she might ask the bartender to add a little vodka. She needed something to help her get through this.


	36. Refugee

**Refugee**

A glimmer of silver. Catching her attention before she turned back to the school. Curious, she bent down, holding the heart-shaped locket between her fingers. The chain hanging downward, cool to the touch. She could see the name engraved upon it. Loved, cherished, and no doubt, missed by its owner.

"Whose is that?"

Eddie's voice broke her reverie, gaze not leaving the locket. Her heart felt heavy, chest beginning to ache as it often did when she was anxious. It hadn't been enough.

"Sameen's."

Inside, there were two pictures of the girl's parents, side-by-side. No, Rachel hadn't done enough. She knew the locket was important to her but her family, even more so. The most important thing was that she was with them now, no matter what happened. That had been Sameen's choice and she must respect that.

Closing the locket carefully, she clutched it in her curled fist, looking up at Eddie. He knew. No words needed to be said, left unspoken in the winter air between them.

They turned back to the school, making their way up the stone steps. She paused, hand holding the door ajar as she stared out to the front gates. Always open. Rachel had wanted Sameen to understand that and she had, knowing the choice that had to be made.

Rachel trusted Sameen would be okay. She was a smart girl.


	37. Dear Diary

**Dear Diary**

Rachel felt quite silly. A grown woman should not be writing in a diary, especially when addressed, not to the pages, but a real person. A man, to be precise.

This wasn't a love letter, she felt the need to say. For clarification. Yet, there was nobody here who needed to be aware of that fact other than herself. This letter would be the only one. Mainly because this notebook was for her work.

She wanted to write this because he was infuriating, driving her insane until she returned home almost thinking she had made a mistake in taking the position. But nobody made her question her work.

Edward Lawson was aggravating, troublesome, petulant, unwilling to work with others, smart, capable, good with the kids… He was… always on her mind.

Biting down on her bottom lip as she grabbed the nearest pen, Rachel couldn't stand the frustration that built as she thought about how inconvenient he was. For her, especially. She was happy to have a good working relationship with him, so why couldn't he think the same?

Noting the date, only a week since she had arrived there. Her memorable first day that was less than satisfactory.

_17__th__ November, 2007. _

Hesitating, her pen was against the page, about to write what she wanted to say. Rachel questioned if that was such a good idea. It was only one letter, she reminded herself. Besides, he would never know.

_Dear Eddie…_

_If someone asked what had possessed me to write this…_

* * *

Yes, this is a nod to Dear Eddie. And yes, I know I need to get on with that story. It's been quite difficult with all my other work because it's all based on writing, so the last thing I want to do after work is write more... But I do want to finish it one day and I will. So hold for another 10 years and maybe we'll get there. This is my own little love letter to it.


	38. Mirror

**Mirror**

Pulling across the fabric, seeing the way it curved across her breast. Her skin left in shades of scarlet and magenta, the edges a tinged brown. Only on one side, Rachel had tried to avoid looking as much as possible. Her only consolation was that it would soon be gone.

She imagined the way it would look when the operation was over, back to how it used to be. Apart from a faint scar where the skin was grafted. Rachel could abide a small white scar if it meant this abomination was no longer on her body.

It had been enough to live with remnants of her past, scarred in ways that people couldn't see. And now that people knew who she was, it had left her with a scar that was impossible to hide. From herself, at least. A reminder of what would happen if she tried to repress her past misdeeds.

With her meagre six-week therapy, she had believed that it wasn't so bad. Like they say, it was who she was that counted. Not her outside appearance. A foolish notion she came to regret the night she had shown Eddie, his look of disgust ingrained in her memory.

It would have to go. She didn't want it anymore, wishing she could tear it off of her body herself. Lip trembling, she rebuttoned her shirt, all the way up to her neck.

Nobody else needed to see her shame.


	39. Magic Trick

**Magic Trick**

"Now, you see it." Eddie held out the ten pence coin. "And now you don't."

His hand curled around the coin, flicking his wrist in some dramatic demonstration, before revealing there was no longer a coin there. Pleased with himself, he stared across at her, gaging her reaction. Whether she was impressed.

A smile tugged at her lips, more amused by his enthusiasm than the simple trick. "Yes, very good. Now where did it go?"

He gasped lightly, his finger holding up to indicate she should wait. "Hold on, what's this?"

Reaching behind her ear, he brought his hand back down to reveal the coin in his grasp. Still rather pleased, he grinned across at her.

"Eh?" No response. "Eh?"

"I'm glad to see you're working hard on marking those results."

He huffed. "Come on, I learnt it for Michael. It's good though, right?"

She patted his leg softly, a condescending smile on her face. "Of course, dear. It was wonderful."

Eddie sat back, arms crossed. He had expected her to be more impressed; it had taken him the whole weekend to learn.

"Well, I like it," he muttered. "And so did Michael."


	40. Radio

**Radio**

"The local news station is better. The presenter is funnier."

Eddie turned the radio channel over, a little hesitant. Considering they were in Rachel's car. He thought she would be fine but with one look, he saw that he may have judged the situation wrong.

She reached across and turned it back to where it was before. "No, I don't like that guy. He can be so obnoxious. I prefer Heart."

"What? He's so funny! How can you not like him?"

Rachel rolled her eyes, looking out at the road ahead. "I suppose he has a certain type of humour but he's not for me. Let's leave it on Heart."

Eddie crossed his arms. He didn't have a specific type of humour… Feeling a hand slide onto his thigh, he glanced across to see her smiling at him. Annoyance passing as quick as it had come, Eddie couldn't be mad at her. She always got what she wanted.

* * *

Short but sweet, so they say.

Also, thank you to Lynny for your review! As I can't message you, I just want to say it means a lot and I hope you continue to enjoy them. If you wanted them longer, i'm afraid you're going to hate this one...


	41. Prostitute

**Prostitute**

_Smart, well-dressed, speaks nicely, friendly, dependable. _

Rachel tapped the end of the pen against her chin, staring absent-mindedly at the lined paper. Thinking of something else, she added another note.

_Doesn't need to rely on anyone else. _

Pleased, she smiled at her handiwork, reading the list a few more times. It covered the whole page- traits she needed to have to be a better person. It wasn't every day someone was given a new identity.

She wasn't sure yet who Rachel Mason was, but she knew who she wanted her to be. There would be no careless mistakes, no reliance on others. Rachel could do whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted. She would be secure. Financially, professionally, emotionally… It almost made her delirious thinking about it.

Rachel Mason was nothing like Amanda Fenshaw. She did not answer for her crimes.


	42. Celebrating A Birthday

**Celebrating A Birthday**

"Okay, one more."

Rachel rolled her eyes, biting her lip as she wondered what he could possibly have planned. She was grateful either way.

"Eddie, you don't have to do anything else," she reasoned. "I appreciated the necklace, the flowers, and the bottle of champagne. But I think you really topped it all with the meal out. That's enough for me, honestly."

He grinned down at her, hands behind his back. It was clear he had something else to show her.

"One more, I promise." When she sighed lightly, he pressed on, encouraged. "I thought it would be nice to have a break. You know, after the term we've had."

After Mellor had given her grief, Melissa had left, and she now had a stroppy teenage boy living with her. That was before she included the stress from work.

"Is it a weekend away?" she asked, voice lilting in excitement.

He chuckled. "No, a little better than that."

Bringing his hand round, he offered her a slip of paper. She took it in her hand, reading the bold letters typed along the front. Gasping, she looked back up at him.

"A trip to the Caribbean? Two weeks all inclusive?" She let out a disbelieving laugh, springing forward to wrap her arms around his neck. "Oh, Eddie! This is perfect. I don't deserve this."

He buried his nose in her hair, pressing a kiss to her neck. "Of course you do, my love."

Rachel caught him in a kiss, pulling back with a grin that she could barely repress. "You really didn't have to do this, but I truly am grateful. This day has been more than I could have ever asked for."

Eddie was even happier, satisfied with the result. "I aim to please."


	43. Swearing

**Swearing**

Eddie pointed across the playground. "It can go over there."

Strolling past, a collection of boys carried bin bags. A new scheme of Rachel's where they learnt responsibility. If the students were going to litter, those who were caught could spend time after school picking it all up again. Her idea and yet, here he was.

He couldn't be annoyed. After all, he had suggested that he do it today. She had looked so tired and he had promised her that it would all be done.

"No!" he suddenly yelled, seeing the way Paul swung his rubbish at Bolton. "Just put the bins by the kitchens. Is that too hard to ask?"

Paul glanced across sheepishly, muttering an apology. Beside him, Bolton hid his laughter by looking down, back facing their teacher. Eddie followed them, not trusting they'd do the job correctly.

They came to the storage bins behind the kitchen, the boys filing through to dispose of the waste left in the school. No doubt the cleaners would appreciate a little help. At the back, Bolton laughed, swinging his bag at Paul's head.

"Bolton!"

Too late, the bottom of his bag split open, spilling the collected rubbish onto the gravel. Eyes wide, Bolton looked at Eddie.

"My bad, sir!" he called, already bending over to try and scrape up the remnants.

"Didn't I say not to mess around?" Eddie cried, arms swinging up in the air. "Isn't that why you're here to begin with? Bloody hell, boys. Just do what's asked of you for once."

Paul held up his hand, although he wasn't in the classroom. "Excuse me, sir, but I don't think you're allowed to swear."

Bolton snickered, disguising it as a cough. He could feel Mr Lawson's glare, even as he continued to stare at the scattered rubbish. Eddie didn't reply. There were a few things he would have liked to have said but none of them were suitable, not while he was still on school grounds.


	44. Parade

**Parade**

A little flat, Kyla continued her rendition of 'Quality Plus: March' on her trumpet. Not that anybody here knew what that was. Either way, Rachel was enjoying herself. She offered an encouraging smile when the girl's nervous gaze flickered her way.

Matt had wanted a school orchestra. A little difficult, considering the student's abilities, but she couldn't fault him for trying. With barely any participants, one boy by the name of Connor was hitting a marching band drum, while the few who could play an instrument were struggling to keep up. Slightly red from the effort, they became more breathless with each wild gesture of Matt's arms.

"Well, it's something to keep the kids busy, isn't it?" Steph remarked.

Removed of sarcasm, she appeared genuine in her statement. Her friendship with Matt might have been the reason why. She hadn't been eager to involve herself in this particular endeavour but she had encouraged him, nonetheless.

Yet, as Rachel looked across the field at Matt's gritted smile, she assumed he was beginning to regret the idea too. It was hard to have a marching band with only six members. Or, at least, six young teenagers who could barely play an instrument.


	45. Phobias

**Phobias**

An ungodly shriek.

Rachel skidded into the kitchen, unsure of what had caused such hysteria. They had cut themselves, there had been an incident with boiling water, one of them had managed to electrocute themselves on one of the sockets…

"What is it?" she cried in alarm, trailing to a stop. Putting her hands on her hips, she raised a brow in annoyance. "Are you being serious? What is going on here?"

Phillip was standing on a chair, pointing down to the middle of the tiled floor, while Eddie had backed into one of the cupboards. Almost on his toes to avoid whatever was there.

"It's there!" Phillip exclaimed. "Get it, Rach."

She walked across, seeing nothing there. "What?"

"There!" Eddie practically yelled, edging further away. "That spider, can't you see it?"

"Oh!" Rachel bent down and cupped the tiny spider into her hand. "It's only a baby. How can you two fuss over nothing?"

Eddie sighed in relief, relaxing when he saw her carrying it to the window. "Just get rid of it, okay? I hate them and I'm trying to cook."

Rachel brushed the spider gently out of the open window, closing it shut behind her.

"Is that what you two are doing?" she chuckled. "Well, in that case, I'll leave you to it. If either of you babies need me, I'll be in the living room finishing off my paperwork."

She heard their meagre thanks as she left, their egos a little wounded. All they got in response was her laughter as she left the room.


	46. Refreshed

**Refreshed**

Sluggishly, Eddie made his way downstairs, barely managing to shrug on his blazer jacket. His briefcase had been prepared the night before, luckily for him. He groaned as he picked it up, the weight a reminder of the work he needed to complete.

From out of the kitchen, he saw Rachel bustle past. She had been ready for at least half an hour, the showerhead hissing into life being the noise to wake him. While he had groggily gotten dressed, she was already downstairs, drinking coffee and snacking on a piece of toast. He could see she'd already finished a handful of papers.

Rachel passed him a flask, already warm with whatever was inside. She noticed the way he stared at her, half confused and half irritated at what time it was.

"Since you're so late getting ready, I made you your coffee."

He mumbled a thanks, brow furrowing. "It's a bit unnecessary to get up this early, isn't it?"

She grinned, patting him on the arm as she brushed past, house keys in her hand. "I always make a point of being there first. What if somebody needed me?"

"That's what a phone is for…"

"And besides, it's good to get your mind clear before you start work. Don't you agree, Mr Lawson?"

He grunted a reply, his feet dragging across the carpet as he followed her out of the door. Eddie could never understand why she was always so lively and cheerful in the morning. Surely, there was something more than coffee in her drink. Or perhaps she really was that enthusiastic about her work.

He already knew the answer. But he wished, for one day, that she would let him sleep a little longer.


	47. Holding Hands

**Holding Hands**

Only the tapping of her keyboard and the tick of the clock kept her company. Although, the second hand was beginning to drag, a sign that she would need to buy more batteries. Not that the school budget could allow itself to stretch for mere batteries anymore.

Antechamber door swinging open, its crash against the wall signalled the end of her working day. She looked up to see a breathless girl standing in the doorway, trying to catch her breath as she hoisted her bag further up her shoulder. Hair slipping from her plaits, she flashed a toothy smile, one missing on the top row.

"Mommy, it's home time!" she cried.

Her dark brown eyes were questioning, as if they hadn't done this before. As if Rachel was sure to forget the next day too.

"Oh, so it is," she chuckled, closing her laptop. "And let me guess, your father is waiting in the car?"

"Yes, he is! And he said if I'm good, I can play on my new game."

Rachel hummed in response, wondering when that agreement was made. Yet, Ellie was always one to finish her homework and chores. That child was too good to be true.

They left the office together, Rachel wincing when she saw the way Ellie bounded down the stairs, the rubber of her shoes squeaking against the varnish. "Eleanor, be careful!"

"Yes, Mommy…"

She waited for her mother, hand raised as she came closer. Rachel took her hand without question, enjoying how small it was in comparison. That shimmering green that she had painted on her nails, already flaking and ruined. She supposed there was always time for a video game. Ellie certainly had her mother's intellect, but she seemed to have inherited Eddie's goofy nature. Rachel wouldn't change that for anything.


	48. Telephone

**Telephone**

A faint glow, peach-coloured through the pink fabric. It barely stretched across the bed, let alone the room. Not that Rachel seemed to care, staring up at the ceiling with a lazy smile, her phone pressed to her ear.

Some faint voice through the speaker that only she could hear. The voice mumbling, as if tired. She reciprocated the feeling by yawning, stifling the sound behind her hand. Responding to whatever was being said, she tried to speak louder. As if that would diminish the fatigue in her voice.

"No, no, it's fine," she insisted, pausing to listen. "Whatever happened to you sleeping late?"

Rachel peered across at the clock on the bedside table, neck craning a little as she lifted her head from the pillow. Dropping back down with a soft thud.

"It's nearly midnight." It came out as a murmur, eyes beginning to feel sore as she struggled to keep awake. "I can last a little bit longer."

On the other end of the line, Eddie sighed, curled into a ball on his own bed. "Go to sleep, Rachel. I'll phone you again tomorrow, okay? I promise. It's been three hours anyway."

Huffing, she felt her body sink a little lower into the mattress, somewhat relieved to sleep. "Fine."

They both had work to do. It wasn't as if they were teenagers anymore, an infinite amount of time left to waste. Yet, both were a little reluctant to say goodnight. To put the phone down.

"Tomorrow," he told her.

She hummed in response, already half-asleep. "Yes, tomorrow."


	49. Red-Handed

**Red-Handed**

She could see them glancing this way and that, as if they wouldn't be seen. Somehow. A building full of people and they would manage to remain undetected by any of the staff or students. More the fool them.

Too busy peering over their shoulder, making sure they weren't being followed, they almost walked into Rachel. Eyes widening in horror, the student glanced around, intaking the sight of their headmistress before them. Her arms crossed and brow furrowed. Kacey Mulver slowly raised her gaze to meet her teacher's.

"I have a note," she instantly said.

"Oh?" Rachel raised a brow. "Let's see it then."

She didn't bother extending her hand, knowing she would receive no such item. Kacey knew it too, her fingers gripping onto the strap of her bag.

"Erm… I think I left it at home this morning."

"No note, no approved absence. You know that."

Kacey opened her mouth, already an argument prepared, but the sight of Rachel's hand gesturing for her to stop made her close it again.

"We can always go up to my office and phone your mother," the headmistress offered. "I'm sure she can spare some time to get the note and bring it here. Besides, if you need to leave, she should be here shortly to pick you up?"

Flinching, Kacey released a low sigh. She lowered her head to stare at the floor. "Don't bother, Miss."

"Back to class then, Miss Mulver." Rachel was already ushering her the other way. "And I hope to see you at lunch, yes?"

Another exasperated huff. "Yes, Miss. I'm sure you will."

So much for playing hooky. Rachel Mason kept the school running on a tight schedule; she would have no excuses.


	50. Graffiti

**Graffiti**

Trying to cover the smell, Rachel buried her nose into the front of her coat. It was slightly chilly and the still air did nothing to help the matter, but the students didn't seem to mind.

A new initiative of hers, somewhat stolen from the previous headteacher- her response to complaints about graffiti in town was to approve an art wall on the side of the school. The staircase seemed a little full and she wouldn't allow any more graffiti on the walls. She didn't even want to start complaining about the crude markings on their lockers.

If the kids had nowhere to vent their emotions, they had the wall to do it with. When completed, Kim had already agreed to open her art class after school hours. Rachel had thought of everything. If the students didn't want to stay at school, she had already discussed an initiative with a local charity, who would search for projects similar to hers.

Choking on the fumes of the spray paint, she buried her nose deeper before yelling out to one of the boys nearby.

"The wall, Aaron!" she shouted in exasperation. "Not Ruby, thank you!"

"Miss, did you see that?" the girl yelled, despite the headteacher having intervened seconds ago.

Rachel buried her nose back into her zipped coat, chilled hands slipping into her pockets. It wasn't what she enjoyed but if the students were happy and off the streets, how could she say no?

* * *

It's the 50th prompt! I guess it's time to say thank you for everything- to all those who have favourited, followed, reviewed, and just read it. It means a lot and I wasn't sure if this would get any interest because, let's be honest, this fandom is dead. But I was pleasantly surprised and it's nice to see people still clinging onto the show and Reddie as much as I am :')

It's a 365 prompt list so there's way more to come... This is going to be a long ride.


	51. Empathy

**Empathy**

The two were protesting, clinging onto each other's hands as they were guided into the car. Rachel had allowed them to be taken on one condition- that they remain together. It seemed cruel to separate twins, but life had already been cruel to them.

She had promised to look after them, that things would be okay. But with one twin sporting a black eye and the other, a broken hand, she knew that things were not okay. That they must be taken into care.

Crying, pleading with her, they were still not as upset as when they had been living with their parents. One had told her that they were grateful but she could never understand. How naïve. To think that she had never been in the same position.

Rather sooner than later, she had told herself. She preferred to see the twins separated from their parents than have them turn to other means of living. That would be the cruellest thing of all and she had made a promise that no other child would ever have to experience that again.


	52. Strangers

**Strangers**

"Niamh is doing so well at school now. Can you believe she's going to high school next year? How time flies, huh? And we're going on our trip to Barbados this summer. It's funny that you called, actually, as Phil rang me the other day. He said he's fine and he's enjoying London, but he'll be going up to Glasgow soon for work. Only a few weeks. Little Oliver is fine, he says…"

Rachel continued stirring the risotto, not bothering to interject or make a sound that suggested she was listening. It seemed normal. As if this wasn't the first time they had spoken in two years. How nice, she thought, for her sister to be going on holiday and that her daughter was incredibly intelligent. Of course she would be. With her father's genetics and Phillip's influence, it was bound to run in the family.

She didn't question the fact that she had only seen pictures of Niamh, having never met the girl. Phillip had shown her a photograph a year or so ago, but that was the last she had seen of her niece.

Besides, Melissa was happy to talk to herself. Chatting and chatting until she could talk no more. Not an unusual occurrence, even before Niamh's birth. Over ten years ago… Melissa was right- how time flies.

There were many things that Rachel wanted to say. She didn't care about the holiday and how Melissa always burnt in the sun; she wanted to know if there had been any arguments between her and her new partner, Alex; what Niamh's hobbies were; whether they were able to afford their new car. Those things that suggested they were involved in each other's lives. But she never asked and so, she was never told.

Rachel knew Melissa well. The way she would disappear when she was stressed, how her left eye would twitch if she was lying, and the way she laughed when she was flirting with whichever guy she fancied at time. But even with all that knowledge, Rachel knew nothing about her sister at all.


	53. Pockets

**Pockets**

They must think her stupid. Or blind. Believing that she couldn't see the way they huddled in groups, whispering, looking this way and that to ensure they hadn't been caught. But they had. And she wasn't happy.

Marching toward Brandon Spence, the one she believed to be the main culprit, she called out, her voice carrying across the crowded corridor. Other students turned to look at her and then Brandon. Most of them laughing, an instinctive reaction, as they realised what was going to happen.

Brandon didn't bother running. He tried to plead his case, shrugging his shoulders, his loose blazer slipping further off.

"I haven't done anything, Miss," he insisted, avoiding eye contact.

She raised a brow. "Then why do I keep seeing you around school in packs, handing something to the other students?"

"I don't know, Miss. I ain't done nothin' wrong; you're singlin' me out." He was starting to get louder, other students hanging around to try and catch the conversation. "Why are you even watching me? Ain't you got nothin' better to do?"

Rachel exhaled slowly, trying to refrain the sigh from becoming any louder. This was not the kind of nonsense she needed today.

"Empty your pockets."

"You what?"

"Don't make me repeat myself, Mr Spence, else that is a week in the cooler for you."

He kissed his teeth, hesitating, before stuffing his hands in his trouser pockets. There was nothing there; Brandon was rather pleased with himself.

"See, Miss," he smirked. "Nothing."

"Blazer and coat too, please."

He groaned, taking his time to do so. Eventually, he pulled out a faded packet. She would recognise the shape anywhere, even with the images scrubbed off. Reaching over, she plucked the packet from his hands, ignoring his exclaimed protests.

"That will be one week in the cooler and afterschool detention," she chided, almost reciting the punishment from heart. "Your parents will also be called…"

"You can't do that," he argued.

"You'll find I can. Maybe next time, you'll think twice about selling cigarettes on school property. I'll keep these too. Now, off to the cooler."

Brandon headed down the corridor, tutting and glaring, his arms swinging this way and that. As if he wished he could wrestle the cigarettes back off her. Watching him leave, Rachel rolled her eyes, allowing herself the pleasure in the now empty corridor. The next period had commenced and the lingering students had dragged themselves away to lessons.

All she had to do now was find all the other students who had bought cigarettes from him. Simple…


	54. Muse

**Muse**

Amanda Fenshaw had never had a role model, anybody that she could aspire to be like. There were pop singers and movie stars, but she grew tired of them quickly. After the life she had led, they seemed rather insignificant.

When asked if she had any ideas for her new persona, the name she might want or the hobbies she may have, Amanda could not formulate an answer. For most young girls, it may have been easy to think of a name, to create an extravagant story of what could be and what should be. Amanda was not like them. All she wanted was to leave and the rest would become apparent later.

They had given her a name, so common that it would never be suspect. She had found it distasteful, or rather, she had been unsure. Staring at the paper until the letters blurred into each other.

Who was Rachel Mason? What did she want?

Perhaps she was hard-working or an only child. Perhaps she had waited till university to start dating- how clever of her. Nobody needed boys. In fact, she may be inclined to date girls; ten years was too soon to even think of seeing another man. Or even better, she would be a middle-class girl who knew nothing about poverty and hardship. Had never had to worry because her parents would pay for everything. To top it all off, she didn't have a half-strained cockney accent, she was better than that.

Yes, this wasn't so bad. Amanda had to start her life again, wipe the slate clean as if she had never existed in the first place, but if that meant she could be whoever she wanted to be, she could live with that.


	55. Promise

**Promise**

It had been easy to promise. And just as easy to break. Rachel allowed some reassurance on her part, knowing that it had been a stressful moment, that she had only done her best in the situation. But Rachel was never satisfied and she still blamed herself.

It had been several months since Denzil Kelly was taken away in a police car. An eleven year old boy who could barely read but possessed a gun. At least, that's what they had believed, even at the protest of his own mother. Now that the real culprit had been found- his own brother- it was time for Denzil to return to society, released from a young offender's prison.

Rachel had barely slept since the death of Maxine, not solely in grief for the girl, but in grief of the young boy who had been incarcerated. A high price to pay for two innocent people. She felt as if she had been the one to pull the trigger, to plant the gun in the boy's hand. That day, she had promised him that he would be okay and she hadn't kept that promise.

Eddie reminded her that she had done everything she could. She had protected the Kellys from the onslaught of abuse, allowed them to flourish in education, and on finding that Denzil hadn't been the one to fire the gun, had ensured the witness testimonies were given and produced in court. More than enough.

Not for her.

Denzil hadn't been okay and for her mistake, they had all paid the price. But as she stood on the stone steps of Waterloo Road, watching the Kelly family pass through the front gate, she knew this was another day. A fresh chance for him; one that she would not hinder. All she could offer was an apology, yet as he came to stop in front of her, big brown eyes staring into her uncertain ones, he told her that there was no need.

"Thank you, Miss."

She felt relief wash over her, a smile instinctively forming. "Welcome back, Denzil."

* * *

Thank you to waterlooroad9 and Lynny. I'm glad that there are still some of us around! Waterloo Road and Eva fans alike. I'll still be going in the WR and EP fandom, even when all is gone :') I'm like a barnacle.

Also, you should still try some writing, Lynny. It comes with plenty of practice so don't worry about it. You never know unless you try!


	56. Medicine

**Medicine**

Rachel slowly opened her eyes, awoken by the sound of footsteps around the house. Groaning, she tried to raise her head before lowering it back down again. That had been a mistake. Clutching the thick blanket that covered her, she questioned if she could stand, already forgetting the brief effort she'd made.

"Look who's up."

She could barely make out Eddie. He was surprisingly in good spirits, considering how much she was suffering.

"Meeting…"

He came to sit beside her, barely sitting on the sofa to allow for space. Chortling, he passed her the timely cough medicine, and a cup of herbal tea.

"The meeting went great," he assured her. "The school is still standing, the kids are the same as always, and somehow, I'm still alive."

Eddie knew it had killed her. Spending a day from work was unbearable for Rachel, let alone two weeks. But a virus was a virus, and even she wouldn't let the students be affected by her illness.

He helped prop her up, noticing the way she winced. She took a cautious sip of tea, slowly slurping it down, as if she thought it would taste horrendous. Unoffended, he picked up the medicine bottle again and held it out to her. Her glare went unnoticed. With agonising slowness, she groaned, taking the ready poured spoon- Eddie had been kind enough to unscrew the lid and pour some for her.

Rachel took the two spoonful's, bursting into a coughing fit after she had done so. It felt as if she were being stabbed repeatedly in the chest, her hand pressing on the pain in the hope it would help. Groaning once more, she knew the coughing would cause an inconvenient trip to the toilet. She wondered if Eddie would carry her, already knowing the answer.

He kissed her on the forehead, tucking her tightly in.

"See? Much better." Eddie ignored her continuous glare. "Don't worry about the breakfast club either. It turned out that swapping Janeece with Casey was the best thing to do. I know she means well but Janeece was too much of a bad influence."

Rachel mumbled her acknowledgement, her mind slightly eased. All he had to do now was tell her about the four separate stacks of paperwork that needed doing, whether Candice had a replacement while she recovered from a dental emergency, if Steph had actually done the work she had been assigned to do, and whether several students under her supervision were still completing their homework on time. Eddie didn't answer any of her questions, but did leave her with another kiss on the forehead, a plate of toast, and an 'I love you.' She thought that would do for now.


	57. Social Ladder

**Social Ladder**

"And where are you off to? Off to have lunch with your middle-class buddies?"

There was a harshness to Steph's tone, suggesting this was an accusation, not a joke. Besides, when did the two ever share a harmless jest?

If Rachel hadn't been so determined, so delighted, she may have taken offence. But there were more important things to think about. Like the musical, the governors, Eddie… She didn't have time to share contentious witticisms. Yet, she knew why Steph was actually upset. Because she had been asked to do work and Rachel wasn't seen to be doing any.

"No, I'm in the middle of a custody battle."

Without waiting for a response, smirking at the astonished expression on Steph and Jasmine's face, she stepped outside. Already dialling the number of Eddie's ex-wife.

Sometimes, she wondered how people got their impression of her. Middle-class always being a popular word. The word was less surprising when she reminded herself that was exactly how she wanted people to see her. If they saw an average woman, a headteacher, someone who had hardly experienced difficulty in their life, then it was harder to question who she was. Or rather, who she had been.

There were worse things to be called than middle-class and there were far worse places to be.


	58. Luck

**Luck**

Hearing the thud of the ball, its smooth surface grinding against the wooden boards, Rachel clasped her hands together. Hoping, praying, anything that would do her a favour. Her wish came true; the ball had detoured to the side before it was even halfway.

She watched as the black sphere fell with a heavy clunk into the gutter, rolling past the ten pins that were still standing. The look on his face was priceless.

Dejected, he spun back around, shoulders slumping. Eddie was nearly as competitive as her. 'Nearly' being the choice word. She was a sore loser but it turned out, she needn't worry. He was terrible at bowling.

Rachel instinctively held out her arms to beckon him back, yet before he'd even got to her, she'd put them down. Her hands rested on her thighs as she half bent over, unable to stop laughing. Perhaps it was the company that made her so happy or perhaps it was the fact that she was the clear winner for the evening. Probably both.

She had been somewhat anxious to find herself alone with Eddie; clearly Phil wasn't thinking about them at all when he cancelled their fun-filled evening, only a quick text message to say he wasn't coming. Yet, this had been a chance for them to redeem their friendship. Salvage whatever pieces were left. As always, her prayers had been answered.

Their natural chemistry hadn't once wavered, nor had her chances of winning. Turns out, Eddie wasn't as good a bowler as he'd promised to be. There was clear regret in his eyes as he returned to her, knowing he'd made a fool of himself. Yet, part of him didn't care. She was laughing, wasn't she?

It seemed the evening was a godsend; Rachel must have been a saint in another life. An evening out, no teenagers, a winning game of bowling, and now, she found her arms wrapped around Eddie's neck, their lips otherwise occupied. For the best, she supposed. The trash talk was getting a little out of hand.


	59. Separation

**Separation**

Rachel scraped half of the rice onto a plate, assuming that the rest would be eaten tomorrow. Or later that evening, if she was feeling that bad about eating alone. The thought often made her hungrier. As she turned to sit down, she caught sight of the freshly baked doughnuts that she had bought earlier that day. Another consolation.

The chair screeched as it was pulled along the tiled floor, the sound echoing in the empty house. Staring at the unoccupied table, Rachel realised that she had been distracted, chastising herself into eating.

Barely two weeks ago, the house had been lively. Between Phil and Eddie…

Rachel could live without Eddie's infuriated shouts from the living room as his football team lost another match, the missing toothbrush next to hers, and she could especially live without the scattering of worn socks across the bedroom floor. Not that it didn't hurt, but life went on.

Nevertheless, she found it difficult to wake up and not have to bang on the door of her nephew's room, making sure she heard an affirming grunt that said he was awake, the heavy thud of his feet on the stairs, and the times she'd had to remind him that video games were strictly prohibited once she went to bed. How many times had she said that she wouldn't allow him to stay up all night shooting people and yelling in frustration when he was the one to be killed?

Taking a bite of her rice, it felt rather difficult to swallow. She chewed on it a bit more as if that would make it better. Sighing, she went to eat more, her heart skipping a beat when the doorbell rang. Rachel wondered if it was Eddie. That, by chance, he had forgotten something and he had come to retrieve it.

Luckier than that, she opened the door to find… "Phillip!"

He ran a hand through his mass of curly hair; clearly, he had not gotten it cut when she had told him to.

"Hey, Rach…" Her nephew was hesitant, an apologetic smile forming. "Erm, I thought I'd come over and say hi."

"Come on in!" She practically pulled him by the wrist. Already clumsy, he almost tripped over his own feet as he was dragged inside. "I actually have some risotto if you want some."

He clapped his hands together, the smug look in his eye suggesting that he may have planned the timing on purpose. "Oh really? That's great, actually. Yeah, thanks. I mean, I love being able to eat chicken nuggets again but I do miss being cooked for, you know? Guess I got a bit used to it."

Phillip laughed nervously, embarrassed to admit how useless he was in the kitchen. She already knew. At first, she had tried to help him but for his own safety, she thought it best that he stayed out of her kitchen. Rachel liked it the way it was.

He sat down as she eagerly scooped the rest of the risotto, telling him that she had some doughnuts too. Both were pleased, smiling awkwardly at each other. Neither said they missed each other but they didn't need to. They were happy to be back together for now; that's all that mattered.


	60. Siblings

**Siblings**

At first, he had thought it was a joke. It was natural, considering that the news had been delivered by Steph. Not usually a liar but prone to gossip, she tended to concentrate on one rumour at a time- the most scandalous. Whatever she had found this time seemed to involve him and he wasn't sure if he wanted to hear it.

"Oh, come on!" she laughed, eyes sparkling. Steph had adopted that familiar expression, one of glee and self-satisfaction; a knowing look that said she had information that was quite serious. But also shocking. "I'll give you a little clue."

She raised her hands in the air, jiggling from one foot to the other. For a second, Eddie questioned if she was drunk. Not an impossibility, despite it being school hours. It didn't matter to her, either, that it was the middle of the day.

"Sisters, sisters," she sang, surprisingly in-tune, "there were never such devoted sisters…"

The performance had caused Bolton and Paul to snort in amusement, the two exchanging a smirk. Eddie glared across, reminding them that the cooler was no place to joke. They lowered their gaze, apologetic, despite the quick wink of thanks that Steph gave them.

"What are you going on about?" he demanded, losing patience.

He had no time for her foolishness, not with the morning he'd had. Sensing his mounting frustration, she placed both of her hands firmly on the desk, leaning forward. Her elbows stuck out, reminiscent of a bird of prey as she peered into Eddie's eyes. One eyebrow cocked upward, she nodded her head a little as if to prompt him. A hint that was completely lost in translation. It was left hanging stalely in the air between them.

"Melissa and Rachel are sisters!" she suddenly shouted.

It took a moment for him to process the information, his chair scraping back and his heart pounding before he'd even realised that he had stood. Eddie was staring down into Steph's delighted smile, suddenly wishing he could pick her up and dump her outside of the classroom.

She was the last person who needed to know that Rachel had made a fool out of him. Again.

* * *

Steph's dialogue is the only real thing I remember from this scene without looking it up. Also, Bolton and Paul laughing. So the rest is maybe pretend, who knows? It might be accurate.


	61. Perfume

**Perfume**

A timid knock on the door.

Rachel peered up, astonished into momentary silence as she realised it was Eddie. He looked rather sheepish. Apt, considering he had bothered to knock. The whole thing was unusual. She questioned if it had anything to do with the night before. Perhaps he had come to tell her that it had been fun while it lasted, but their time had come to an end.

"I, erm…" Eddie glanced at the window, mainly to avoid the awkwardness, and then back to her. "I was trying to find one of my folders this morning and realised there was some stuff that you might want."

It didn't sound like bad news. A small burst of air escaped her lips, enough to be silent. Brow rising, she managed to sound mocking.

"And what might they be, Mr Lawson?"

He leant back, peering into the antechamber to check he wasn't mistaken in thinking they were alone. Satisfied, he strode across the room, halting in front of her desk.

"What?" she half laughed.

Reaching into his bag, Eddie pulled out a pair of laced underwear, a silver necklace, and an almost empty bottle of perfume. He didn't tell her that he had noted the brand of perfume, a mental tab that he would keep for the future.

Rachel stared down, merely blinking in surprise before remembering where she was. The slight reddening in her cheeks matched his and she swiped the three items into her handbag, the other arm having reached for it. Clearing her throat, she glanced back up at him, her smirk matching his.

"Well, thank you for those items. I'll be sure to remember them next time."

"Oh, so there's a next time?"

"Don't try and be funny."

He raised his hands, backing out of the office in defeat. Flipping the satchel closed once more, his earlier embarrassment was forgotten. The whole situation was funny now that the personal belongings had been restored to their rightful owner.

"I guess you can make a point of wearing them all later," Eddie called over his shoulder. "We'll see how much you remember this time."

Rachel failed to lessen the deep blush that had formed, her smile just as relentless. She shouted after him, preferring to have the final word.

"I'm glad you think this is a game."

His laugh was heard before the door of the antechamber closed behind him. Eddie never failed to dumbfound her.


	62. Adoption

**Adoption**

"So, what you have to do is explain how Petruchio is presented overall in the play and then link it back to this extract here. At the same time, you want to be aware of how this quote above links to him overall, through the extract and in general."

Phillip squinted down at the practice paper as if that would somehow help him understand it better. He was beginning to get used to the examination questions, but it also helped when he had an English teacher as an aunt. She liked to remind him that she also taught History, though he told her that was irrelevant when it came to his exams. He hadn't taken History.

"Well, yeah but we can only assume he was making fun of Petruchio," he debated.

Rachel laughed, taking a sip of her coffee. "We can. Shakespeare was known for making fun at everyone. It may be based on assumption but it is the most popular theory, and whatever it is you believe, it doesn't matter. The question has asked you to discuss it from that point of view so that's what you have to do."

Sighing heavily, he dropped his hand on the lined paper, the pen in his grasp hanging dejectedly from between his fingers.

"It's all crap," he muttered. "Shakespeare is not the be all and end all."

She caught his criticism, though she hardly cared. One brow raised, she stared at him from across the dining room table. A question in her gaze that asked if he were joking or if he really was struggling. He caught the light concern and flashed her a reassuring grin.

"I'll be fine, Rach." He paused before straightening up in the chair, as if he intended to do some work. "Thanks for helping me."

Her hand reached across and rested on his, reassurance in her smile. "No problem; you know I will always be here if you need help. Now, what do you fancy for dinner?"

"Chicken nuggets?"

"No nuggets…"

"Ugh, fine. How about that cottage pie you promised to make?"

Holding the coffee mug close to her chest, she appeared to be warming herself up, her pale fingers gripping onto the ceramic. The thought of a hot meal was pleasing to both of them and her shoulders raised slightly in excitement.

"Oh, that would be nice," she beamed. "Yes, I can make that for you."

"Thanks, Rach."

He watched her stand, moving round the table. Flinching, he tried to dodge the incoming kiss, receiving it on the temple, nonetheless.

"Anything for you, dear," she hummed, drifting out of the room, half in a content daze.

Phillip couldn't begin to describe in words how thankful he was- that she had let him live there, that she continued to care for him despite him getting older, and that she took time out of her day if he ever needed her. Even when he knew she was busy. How nice it was, he thought, to have a home with Rachel.


	63. Blue Jeans

**Blue Jeans**

Flickering through the three hangers in the wardrobe, Rachel felt a frown developing, the edges of her mouth down-turning. She wanted to believe that if she kept flicking through the same pieces of clothing that something new would appear. Clearly not. But she wasn't sure what else to do.

"It's a formal event, Eddie."

His voice travelled from the bathroom. "I know…"

She didn't think he did. One last attempt was made to look at the three hangers again, flickering through more aggressively than she had intended. Exasperated, she sighed heavily. Mostly in hope that he could hear her irritation.

"And you're telling me that you don't own any trousers, whatsoever?" she cried.

He came out of the bathroom, covered only by his boxer shorts, a toothbrush hanging out of the corner of his mouth.

"I don't need any!" he protested. "I did have one pair but I told you, they're a bit…. tight."

"Then get some more."

Not an option he took seriously for he scoffed, his hand raising to continue brushing his teeth. She watched him return to the bathroom.

Spinning and dropping onto the edge of the bed, she stared in disbelief at his sparse wardrobe, the few clothes in there. Rachel could allow it for school- he would at least attempt a tie and blazer for those occasions. He would even swap his heavy boots for his least scuffed shoes. But Eddie only had three pairs of jeans to his name, all exactly the same colour and shape, and yet, he had no trousers. His last pair had been for Michael's christening and he seemed to have grown out of them.

"I'm a big boy now," he had joked, his laughter falling short when Rachel had stared blankly at him.

She knew he needed a little help when it came to formal clothes but this was ridiculous. Unable to help herself, Rachel tried one last time.

"Why do you even need three pairs of jeans that are exactly the same?"

His gurgling could be heard from behind the door. "Because I do!"

Falling backward onto the bed, she reached over her head and seized a pillow. Hopefully that would muffle her scream of frustration.


	64. Heirloom

**Heirloom**

Hesitating, her hand pulled away from the bag, a moment taken to question if she had changed her mind. She knew it was necessary, deep down. But that didn't make it less painful.

Rachel had rummaged through her old belongings, making a point to venture into the attic. An effort that she hardly ever made. Still, something old, something new… It was a gift that would be appreciated, even when no real effort had been made. Not financially speaking. Emotionally, it had left her a little unsure.

Ten minutes had passed before she found it. She knew where it was- not much had been kept for storage; the first half of her life had been erased- and it had only taken her that long because it was buried deep within a plastic box.

They were still beautiful, intricate and well-kept. A small detail that would be left unappreciated…

Rachel knew she must give them to Melissa. It was the right time and it would compensate for the previous marriage she had missed. They had sworn to make things right, a promise that Rachel took seriously.

Placing the box into her handbag, a little hesitantly, she chastised herself for being so sentimental. Melissa had always been the favourite; there was no doubt in her mind that she would have inherited the pearl necklace one way or another. That didn't make it any more comforting to Rachel, however.

It was for whoever was married first, for their wedding day. A sharp sting that Melissa could have used it twice, was using it now, and Rachel would never see it again. The necklace was beautiful, one that she wouldn't usually wear but one that she would love to own. Once it was stored in her bag, it wouldn't be returning to the house.

Rachel questioned if she wanted to keep it. In the false hope that her mother had cared for her too, that she could possibly have reason to wear that necklace for its intended purpose. But it was false hope and it was Melissa's right to have it too. Rachel would not allow herself to blame anyone other than her parents for the resentment that lay deep within her. After all, it was only a necklace. Wasn't that inconsequential compared to the relationship she could have with her sister?


	65. Smile

**Smile**

There was a report that needed finishing, a copy needed for the governors and another for the senior members of staff. Eddie had said he would assist, but between his end of year marking and his allotted time with Michael, he'd hardly been much help. Kim had offered and although she had been good company, they often got distracted by gossip than by work.

If that wasn't enough, the report had lessened her sleeping time. Five hours of sleep was enough to make her irritated. Finding she had forgotten to buy more coffee, she had dazedly made her way to school, only to feel a sharp pain in her stomach. Luckily for her, Rachel was always prepared. She promptly went to the toilets, cursing the faint spot of red in her underwear. Grumbling, she ate her packed lunch before break-time.

Elbow on the desk, propped under her chin, Rachel pretended to work. She scrolled through the report, noting the unfinished sections. Still, she made no effort to start them. Then she heard a knock on the door, a little polite. Dragging her gaze upward, she noted, with surprise, that it was Eddie.

"Jasmine said she was completely free so she'd spend this period in the cooler. Now I've got some extra time, I thought I'd come here."

Rachel raised her brows. "And help me with the report?"

He shrugged; that was clearly not the reason for his visit. "That too, I suppose."

Grinning, Eddie had already dropped into the sofa, silently asking if she would join him. He didn't need to ask. Rachel stood, her own grin spreading as she made her way to him. The rain outside lashed against the window and she still felt as if her stomach was curling into itself; yet, she could allow herself a moment of happiness. This once.


	66. Open Door

**Open Door**

"Tell your moms, your dads, your grandparents, whoever, we want them all here. Because we're opening the doors this year and the message that I'm trying to get across is if they're in need of something, the first place we want them to look is Waterloo Road."

That was received with mixed reactions. No less than she had expected, but she had promised to make her mark and Rachel Mason would not allow for anything less.

Matt looked indifferent, if not a little tired. Perhaps his wild night out hadn't helped. Steph was smug, as always, waiting for the moment where she could voice her criticisms. As for Tom and Jasmine, at least they looked supportive. The latter perhaps a little too excited. She wriggled in her seat, a determined look in her eye. Davina was nodding, flashing a reassuring smile, while Grantly was…. Well, he was absent. Strange, considering she had seen him early that morning. At the same time, it wasn't so strange. He was no more ashamed than the kids when it came to playing hooky.

It needn't matter what they thought; she was going to do it anyway. Rachel believed in doing the best she could and she had faith in her plan. This was no different than the schools she had worked in before, the strategies she had implemented there.

Still, as she caught sight of Eddie on the front row, his face radiating with a trust that frightened her, Rachel supposed it was nice to have someone support her. She couldn't have done it without him.


	67. Lies

**Lies**

Life was simple when you had an easy life. An easy existence. Say you're sorry and confess your sins, that's all it took. But it wasn't so simple, so uncomplicated.

Not in the way he said it and not in the sentiment reflected in his gaze. Hurt, clearly; enraged, painfully; understanding, unlikely. He said it as if it made sense. As if she should atone for her past and it would fall into line- everything is as it should be. Balanced, sinner and saint alike.

She was not Rachel Mason, not here. Neither was she Amanda Fenshaw. She stood before his scrutiny, stripped bare in a vulnerability that reached beyond intimacy. Beyond the silent accusations. Stuck in purgatory, waiting for him to say what he had to say.

He said she should leave. Confess or disappear, back into the night that he assumed she was from.

"Please," she begged him.

He couldn't hear her. She had taken matters into her own hand, bringing down the pedestal that he had placed her upon, one that she had never asked for. And now she was left in the aftermath, in the devastation and dirt that she belonged in. It had never been so clearly expressed than when he looked at her.

Such deception on her part and yet, he never thought to ask why. To ask how. Only that it had happened and now here they stood, face to face. And he resented her for it.

He left his resignation on the desk, both of her names left drifting in the space between them. Past and present alike, moulding into one, suffocating her. She choked- on the air, the shock, or perhaps it was a sob. All three were plausible. Rachel did not ask him to come back. Not right then. Besides, he would not believe a word that she said.


	68. Holiday

**Holiday**

It wasn't exactly Barcelona or Crete. Not sweltering heat but enough for it to be comfortable, allowing a nice dress to be worn for once. Who could ask for more?

Rachel had been reluctant at first. Spontaneity was not for her, and she had to ask when, where, and how much- all those questions that needed a perfectly defined answer. She had gotten them in time, and she supposed that there was no harm in it.

Phillip shared her reluctance, dragging his suitcase behind him. Each stair met with an indignant thump. Tracing his way to the kitchen, already muttering how much he longed to return upstairs and stay on his console. No, that wouldn't do. He was going with her. Besides, he couldn't be trusted to stay alone in the house, not for two weeks.

The reservation says three.

He groaned quietly, following her into the car and immediately putting his earphones in. Some unrecognised song blasting, enough for them to hear. Rachel glanced across at Eddie, waiting for him to realise his mistake, but he was as cheerful as always.

In some ways, she supposed he had been right. The time away had been good, somewhere different and all that. Not having to cook dinner, or work, or sit in the house all day. She sat on the grass, blanket neatly unfolded and grounded beneath her, reading some book she had ignored for the past few months. Across the grass, Eddie and Phillip were playing football.

Just a friendly game, a quick kick around. But neither had kept to that promise and they were beginning to get competitive, the ball flying from one side of the mock pitch to the other. She could hear them bickering, calling each other out for any tiny mistake. Nothing serious but their pride was being questioned.

Rachel didn't bother to intervene. She was quite happy where she was.


	69. Spellbinding

**Spellbinding**

Thinking, thinking; he was always thinking of her. Make up your mind- one minute she was the devil incarnate; next, she was an angel. Forcing him to watch the burning flames of his career, one that had seemed so assured. Then she had experienced her own taste of humble pie, Mika's vodka-soaked vomit resting messily along the front of her jumper and further below.

It may have been funny if Mika wasn't sobbing, shouting. Drunk. But she whisked the girl away and he expected her to be punished. Yet, he found her lying almost face down on the head teacher's sofa, slurring. As for the snob, she was being nice. Going as far as to offer her reassurance and proving that, perhaps, she was human too.

But she never felt fully human. Fully there.

Distant or overbearing, she was never someone to be pinned down, so easily defined. Often, she was sad. A sad kind of silence that indicated something had happened to her, haunted her. He thought it was loneliness. In some ways, he had been right.

Always a mystery- fanciful, enchanting, intangible. Despite the very reality that she was there, that she had placed her hand upon his knee once. She was not one to live within the boundaries that other people had forced her into; she did not believe in impossibilities. It had induced a begrudging respect from him.

He believed she may be the one. As in, the guardian angel this school needed- a saviour, a warrior, some goddess that simply clicked her fingers, causing chaos and peace to clash together. Eventually, only fate would be left. They were to be judged by the consequence of their actions.

But now it was her turn to be judged.

She was no saint and she promised that she was no sinner. They are not one or the other, Eddie, she said in that scathing tone of hers, I am what I am. Both can reside within one person- that is simply reality. Welcome to the real world.

* * *

This prompt is a mess but I don't know if I have the capacity to rewrite it, not for a while anyway. So, I guess this is what you're getting. Sorry...


	70. Taking Chances

**Taking Chances**

Saying I don't understand. What happened here?

Life, love, loss. Rachel Mason, the one with the unlimited job recommendations, the one with the unscarred skin, well, she had been living her life. This Rachel Mason, marred with the mistakes of yesterday and scarred in more ways than one… Not so much.

She had been ready to say yes. _Had_ said it. He had asked her on that last day and she had been more than willing, blurring the boundaries of professional and personal. See where the evening took her, the company. How uncomplicated and sweet it had all seemed.

Now, he was asking again and she wished for anything but. Wanted him to disappear and leave her alone, though never truly abandon her.

Here was an opportunity that had already passed them by. Already a thing of the past. To say I told you so, she showed him her shame, her vulnerability. He was disgusted.

This wasn't their last chance, nor was it their first. They had never had one in the first place.


	71. A Night To Remember

**A Night to Remember**

A scattering of roses on the table, a burning candle, flickering beneath the dimmed lights. How long had it been? Too long. They had said that this wouldn't happen again, that they had other priorities. Children, partners… And, well, that was it.

But the divorce had come through. She had told him immediately. Perhaps she should have waited, appeared less eager, but it had already taken them so long. Too much time wasted in doing the right thing.

Rachel reached across and took his hand in hers. "Here's to another day."

Any day that she could take with him.

"To us," he said.

To what they could have been, should have been. But there was no sense in grieving what hadn't happened because they were here now. Good food, good wine, good company. And, if they were lucky, good sex.

Rachel knew what she wanted this time, had learnt from her mistakes. The same could be said for him. Eddie was no more inclined to waste this opportunity than she was. Age became them.


	72. Moon

**Moon**

Half a snore, despite being awake, and she prayed to God that she didn't dribble. Late nights and no coffee. Only two bottles of wine. She was tired, to say the least, but it was the easiness of the evening, the mellow atmosphere that had left her so sleepy.

Talking for hours, drinking non-stop- what else was new-, before taking advantage of the summer heat to sit outside. The suggestion had been to sit but he had lain down on the sun lounger, beckoning for her to join. No space, not for two. If she sat on top then, well, it wouldn't be an issue. So, she had stretched across him, slowly curling into a ball as they stared into the night sky.

What little they knew of the constellations was shared- he knew more than she did. He wasn't really sure where he had learnt them from, probably school. One hand on her waist, tracing the skin that was exposed from her untucked t-shirt, the other entwined with hers, resting on his chest.

"The moon looks nice tonight," he said.

What a funny thing to say, but as she stared longer, she supposed he was right.

"Yes, it does."

Leaving an opportunity for him to say she also looked nice tonight. Flatterer. He was so lovely and wonderful and warm… She was almost asleep when he spoke again. Time for bed, perhaps, but she wanted to stay.

Eddie kissed her on the forehead. "It's okay. I'm not going anywhere; we can do it again another time."

How sweet of him. Grateful, she fell asleep on top of him when they got to bed. Too preoccupied with the feeling of his body against hers to realise she had given him a dead arm.


	73. Guidance

**Guidance**

First, laughter, then anger. Head pressed against the wall, he was surely crying, remorse and shame the only emotions left. Passing through the stages of grief in less than a minute.

She had tugged at his blazer, yelling, comforting. Anything to make him look up and listen for a damn change. Such a good boy, so clever, nice… Easily misled and easily bullied. Rachel would have to be blind to not see how some of the students treated him, jeering and calling.

Serves them right, in some ways, to have been dealt such a prank. Yet, this was her school. Her rules. Nobody had the right to come here and make a fool of her, not at the expense of her students.

She told him that she was disappointed. He told her that she wasn't his mother- even she hadn't wanted him.

Rachel felt her heart sink, words jumping to mind, leaving as quickly as they came. So, where did they go from here? They both needed help, but him most of all. He needed a mother. No, she wasn't one but she could be. If he'd let her.


	74. Flowers

**Flowers**

They were supposed to be encouraging, helpful. Something left as a reminder that she wasn't forgotten. How nice of them, determined to remind her that she wasn't as disposable as they implied her to be.

"You must be popular," the young nurse had said, unthinking. Intrusive. "We had a lot come through, you know."

So, what? What did it matter? They were merely a multitude of goodbyes, a mocking procession for her dead career. Although, they told her she was lucky; she could have been dead too. Here, at her bedside or lain on her grave, the question still remained- what did it matter?

Rachel didn't even have the strength to sit up and throw them in the bin. Left to lie there and stare at them as if they were meant to bring her solace.

* * *

I'm coming up to where I've actually gotten to in my writing, so the prompts will start to slow down. The reason I've been slow uploading is because my beta has been ill and I'd rather wait to post them then make a mistake (because there's always one somewhere :') ). But I've had several finished or ready to be uploaded so there is more to come. Thanks for hanging in there


	75. Carnival

**Carnival**

"Oh…. Bloody hell!"

Rachel's hand flew to her chest, hoping to calm her erratic breathing. She stepped away from the clown that had suddenly appeared, a distasteful look shot its way. It beckoned her to follow.

"No…. No, thank you."

"Go away!" Steph exclaimed, one hand pushing on Rachel's back. Hoping to put some distance between them and its worrying insistence.

The students had scampered off to enjoy the circus, a 'one-off' treat. That's what Rachel had called it, and they were not foolish to waste this opportunity. As for the teachers, they were less thrilled.

"I hate clowns," Steph muttered.

Rachel was pleased, on this occasion, that she had been paired with Steph. They shared a grimace.

"He just came out of nowhere," Rachel shuddered. "If I see another clown today, it will be too soon."

Steph was being sensible for once, clearly wanting a drink- a strong one- and knowing coffee was the best option. "Let's go sit in the café."

"Agreed."


	76. Dedication Page in Books

**Dedication Page in Books**

Settling down, Rachel took a sip of her freshly made coffee, feeling the liquid warm her body, cheeks flushing. It felt good to have a moment alone. Some peace and quiet, finally. She had worked hard enough, particularly for the bid, and she supposed that a day off wouldn't harm anyone. God knows her weekends were never for herself.

The kindness hadn't been for her, however. Not even in allowing herself a break. It had been an unknown sign of gratitude to Eddie for having given her a Christmas present in the first place. Determined to show a little willingness, Rachel had dedicated the day to reading Crime and Punishment. In some ways, some thought had gone into it, even in the simple fact he had bought her anything at all. It meant he was thinking of her.

Curled on the sofa, she opened the book, taking satisfaction in the faint swish of the page. Finding, to her surprise, that there was a note left on the back of its cover.

_I'm sure this is more than relevant to the work you're doing- the kids sure give you a run for your money. Let's hope we never have to think any further than the mundane, and here's hoping you don't lose this copy. Eddie x_

Rachel read it several times, tracing the way he wrote his own name. A chicken scrawl, she called it, but she could see he had made an effort in making his writing presentable. Teeth biting down on her lip, she smiled silently at the note for another minute. Remembering, at some point, that she was supposed to be reading the book. Yes, well, concentrate….

* * *

My beta finally got back to me so here we are. I still have a few after this that have been ready to publish, so I haven't forgotten.

I forgot to say but the comment from Eddie about her losing this copy is a nod to my other fic- Dear Eddie. In that, she states that she used to have a copy but lost it, so this is the reasoning behind him buying her that particular book.


	77. Panic Attack

**Panic Attack**

Fingers fumbling, causing the papers to slip from her grip. She growled in frustration, slamming her hand down on the desk. Too much to ask, it seemed, for her to do something simple- a task that was easy, should have been, but she struggled anyway. Slipped at the first hurdle.

Standing, she pushed away from the desk, wheeled chair bouncing back into the wall. The small thud gave her little satisfaction; not enough for the reaction she wanted. She wanted to scream, cry. Heart pounding, chest feeling as it were sinking into itself, and for what?

Tell me, she asked herself- for what? She couldn't even say. It was as simple as those misgivings that lingered above her, in her mind, reminding her that she was not at home here. She was sinking, slower and slower into her work.

Fingers pushing through her hair, nails scraping against her skull as if that would wake her from this nightmare, she stared out of the window. Breathing sharply and suddenly to the count of three, telling herself to stop. She watched the stationary cars, the way their rooftops glinted in the sun, and the open gates of the school.

Inhaling sharply, as if this were her last breath, only to feel arms winding their way around her waist. Grounding her, pulling her back to reality, and she smelt his cologne- a scent she would recognise anywhere. Rachel leant back into his chest, feeling the solidity of him. Without saying anything, he told her it was okay. And for the time being, she believed him.

* * *

My beta is taking forever to get back to me, so I've decided to post these as they've been ready for weeks. Sorry for the delay but I'll start posting them more regularly if I'm not waiting for my beta.


	78. Black and Blue

**Black and Blue**

Across her upper arm, her inner thighs- little imprints that said where they had been. The force that had been made by their touch. Clearly, it was too much to ask to leave her with her shame; they had to wound her too. A bruised body to match her bruised ego.

Another on her shin where she had fell, hurrying to get home. Six-inch heels, five rounds of drinks, and the sheet of water along the pavement was enough to do that to her. Cursing, her arms had trembled as she struggled to stand up.

Above the knee was a burn mark, blistered, discoloured. She had stamped the end of her cigarette against her skin, extinguishing the burning paper. And it had hurt. It had hurt far more than the bruises that had been made along her body by men.

Amanda was like a doll, tossed away and uncared for. Left in a heap of garbage where she was easily forgotten and easily broken. Perhaps once, she had been pretty and charming, but it was hard to tell when she had been torn apart.


	79. Beautiful Place

**Beautiful Place**

There was not one room- apart from hers, perhaps- that did not require another fresh layer of paint. The staff room needed exhuming and the toilets... Ghastly. Entering the building, anyone would be blind to not notice the fading insignia, its stained red and yellow layers peeling from the glass.

Although, the new metal detectors were enough distraction. It hardly made the place look any better, though it did make the school safer.

The floorboards in the hall creaked and no matter how much they were washed, they continued to look filthy. Years of use often does that to a floor. As for the people themselves, they were hardly much better. Underdressed, barely in uniform (which extended to the teachers), and little pride in the school, despite the care they took in their personal appearance.

Waterloo Road was shabby, to say the least. Dog-eared, she called it- decrepit, dishevelled, and disinterested in that fact. And yet, Rachel felt she had never been happier than at this school. She rather liked it.


	80. Staircase

**Staircase**

She was still, back against the wall, pressed as if she were nothing more than a rag doll against the brick. He was convulsing with rage, accompanied by the sheer force of her arms as she shook him, scrambling to push him as far away as she could.

"Get out of my school! Get out of my school!"

She was frantic, thinking that nobody would hear her. Or worse, they would not come to her aide. Her nails dug into his skin, her body pushing back, her fringe falling across her eyes so she could hardly see. Despite her effort, she remained where she was. He had her against the wall, and she felt a fear she had not felt since she was a teenager. Pressed against something, against her will, a man with breath smelling of cigarettes and alcohol, holding her with little care. Only force.

Not now.

Her knee flung into the air, landing squarely between his legs. Stuart grunted in pain, his grip lessening. Rachel pushed him, hardly realising what was around her. He fell backwards down the stairs, tumbling roughly. As if in slow motion. And even in her control, she felt remorse.

* * *

Long time, no see! I've been incredibly busy this summer and now, I'm on my masters! So, no rest for the wicked as they say. Now I've got myself settled, I'm hoping to pump these out again at a much more frequent rate. If I find the time, I'm also hoping to get at least one other chapter done for Dear Eddie, but that is mightily ambitious. But I've said it so now I must do it.

Hope you've all had a wonderful summer!


	81. Beach

**Beach**

Hand-in-hand, connected in any way they could be, fingers gripping as if the other would ever consider letting go. They were silent, but the world was not. From across the sand, onto the tarmac, bars and restaurants echoed with life and light, music in another language, reverberating behind the noise.

Close to them, the softest sound of all- the lapping of the waves. The faint chill of air from the evening breeze prickling against their skin, unable to hurry them in their lazed walk.

With her free hand, Rachel brushed her hair back, preventing it from falling in her face. Her other hand was tugged sideways, pulling her closer to Eddie. His lips leaving a soft kiss atop her head.

* * *

Hello! Yes, I am back :') hopefully for longer this time. And yeah, someone else did give me a heads up about the episodes being available. I'm grateful because I genuinely forgot they were, and it may be a bit more helpful for me if I want to at least get another chapter of Dear Eddie out... Here's hoping!


	82. Selfishness

**Selfishness**

Dumping the papers in her hands, lips spilling a multitude of gratitude, and yet, the gesture felt empty. Her arms, however, did not. Rachel weighed them, attempting a tilt of her lips to say she was okay, happy even.

"Go ahead," she insisted.

Melissa asked if she was sure, but was already leaving. Another thank you for doing this. Behind, Eddie appeared, questioning what was happening. Rachel told them to go ahead and in doing so, she was handed a pile of folders from Eddie.

"Thanks, Rach."

Then they were walking through the antechamber, leaving her behind, the light through the window turning into dusk. Everyone else had gone; she would be the only one left in the building. Working until she couldn't anymore.

She tried to catch his eye, at least receive another smile of his to get her through the evening. But he did not look at her again, his arm around her sister. Melissa did turn back to smile, however, but Rachel wished she hadn't. It felt as empty as her gratitude.


	83. Firework

**Firework**

Rachel tried to convince herself that it was a good idea, that nothing would go wrong. Think the best in them and they will prove her right. Eventually.

Standing by the pile of fireworks, hoping that her family Bonfire Night at the school was worth the hassle, the endless amounts of paperwork. She would usually say- yes, I think I made the right decision.

But then she kept noticing the students who tried to linger suspiciously close to the fireworks, the way they kept checking to see if she'd turn away. And Rachel prayed that nothing was set on fire. It would be more than her nerves could take.

* * *

Thank you to the comments and reviews I've gotten, even when I'm not around. It's been very busy for me recently- doing a masters is not fun. But I hope to try and update here and there, if I can. Thank you for sticking with it!


	84. Wedding

**Wedding**

Simple, understated, yet no less meaningful. Only the boys, or in some cases- men, were in attendance. Michael had grown rather fast and had needed new trousers a couple of days before. Phillip had trimmed his mane of curls, a sign that he took his duties seriously. He was the maid of honour, after all, since Michael had taken the role of best man.

A simple cream skirt suit would suffice, and a pearl hairpin to celebrate the occasion. There would be nothing else, though Phillip handed her a small bouquet that he had bought on the way there.

Rachel thought even that was too much. Not because she wanted to minimise its significance, but because she had lived long enough to know that this day wasn't really what mattered. It was every day after. A lifetime seemed nothing to eight years apart.

She slipped on the gold band, pleased that it fit just right- everything always did with him-and he did the same. It was almost a dream. But then he took her hand and she held it tightly, him pulling her closer. A kiss to seal their promise.

He pulled back. "Off to the pub, Mrs Lawson?"

"Yes, I think that would be nice. I wouldn't say no to a glass of red."


	85. Frozen

**Frozen**

Usually, Rachel enjoyed lunch supervision. As long as she had good company, which she had, she was often content. Yet, the hour spent with Eddie was not enough to calm her irritation, her sensitivity only growing with each out-of-tune warble that came from across the playground.

Excusing herself, she marched across the gravel, approaching the girls huddled underneath a tree.

"Girls, please! Will you try and keep it down?"

One girl chirped back- "Let it go, Miss."

They giggled between themselves as she returned to Eddie's side, his brows rising as if to ask what her problem was.

"If I have to hear that stupid soundtrack one more time..." she threatened.

He shrugged, hands shoved into his coat pockets. "I wouldn't say I'm a big fan of Frozen, but I don't mind that reindeer song, myself."


	86. Initiative

**Initiative **

Cheque in hand, it was proof that she had been correct. Her schemes had been worth it, despite what anyone else said. The number of zeros reinforced that. Smug, she peered across at Eddie, knowing this was exactly what she needed- a chance to emphasise just how successful her project was.

"Wow..." Her exclamation caused a slight interest, his dark gaze rising nonchalantly from the pile of papers on the table. "Local businesses seem to love our enterprise initiative. Look!"

She practically shoved the cheque at him.

His whistle indicated that he was impressed, although his apathetic response was not what she had hoped for. Rachel took back the cheque, a criticising remark already on the tip of her tongue.

He took the criticism well, though he was far from admitting that she was right. No matter, she thought, he'd come around eventually. He'd have to. Because her venture would only continue to be a success. And where would that leave him?

* * *

I know I've been gone a while and it's not the best, but I just wanted to get back into it and get these going again. Hope you all had a good Christmas and New Years, and hope you're all not too busy!

Plus, I know I promised to maybe upload a chapter of Dear Eddie too and I have every intention of doing so, but a lot of stuff happened over Christmas at home and with my uni deadlines. Turns out doing a masters leaves you with absolutely no free time ever. I really did want to continue Dear Eddie and these prompts but I couldn't, but I still keep hope of finishing both at some point.


	87. Education

**Education**

The sole reason she had become a teacher was to help underprivileged children. By being a teacher, she could ensure they got the grades needed for college, for an apprenticeship, for a job.

Why? Because they were less likely to get into trouble. Less likely to become homeless or unemployed or inclined to crime.

Rachel couldn't name all of the students that she had taught. Countless faces passed her by, almost a blur, but the span of her career was not calculated by the amount of people that she had met. It was by the exam ratings that came through each year, the percentage of success when it came to the extracurricular programmes she had implemented. It was the amount of 'thank you's that she had received before she left for the summer.

But in being the teacher, she had also learnt a few valuable lessons of her own. How to let go and enjoy the moment, how to be patient (even when being tested by the students and staff), how to compromise, and how to love. Even when it felt impossible.

But most of all, she learnt to expect the unexpected. Because teenagers always knew how to surprise her, no matter how many years of experience she had.

* * *

Thank you to everyone who has been keeping up with my story and leaving lovely reviews, even when I'm gone for ages. As I can't send you a message personally, thank you to hannah5240 for your reviews! They mean a lot.


	88. Commotion

**Commotion**

They could hear them before they'd even rounded the corner. It was complete and utter chaos.

There was a circle, as there always was, chanting and screaming. Some cheering, others swearing. Everything that they shouldn't be doing and it was clear what had caused it.

Eddie was there first, his longer legs aiding him in his hurry. His equally long arms reaching out in front of him to scoop students out of the way.

"Alright, pack it in," he bellowed.

Some students moved aside, some ran. Some were too engrossed in the fight to care.

Rachel was close behind him, ordering them to return indoors, appealing to their sense of reason. Although she sometimes doubted they had any.

Two boys were holding each other in a headlock, punching each other in the stomach and trying to kick the other over. She wondered if they knew how stupid they looked. No doubt, they would forget by next week, whatever it was that had started this.

Pulling one from the other, she let her voice carry across them.

"I said that is enough!"

* * *

Thank you to everyone who has reviewed since I last updated; you're all so lovely and it means a lot. I'm glad you're all still around because we all need that WR fix :') hope you're all currently safe and well in our current climate.

I'm still expected to finish my course, which isn't great. But if they do cancel my exams, I should have a bit more time so look out, I might be posting more frequently and even fit in at least one chapter of Dear Eddie; I've really missed that story. So, I'll let you know if I do. Hope you're all having a wonderful day!


	89. Unforeseen Tragedy

**Unforeseen Tragedy**

Helping others, that was her role in life. She was always the anchor, the backbone, the martyr. Helping her mother rid of the empty bottles, helping her father by letting him beat her black and blue; he was usually much calmer once she had allowed it. Helping her sister by keeping her in her room, feeding her, taking her outside and playing games till Melissa forgot there was anything to cry about.

Helping others to feel better about themselves, degrading herself in the process. Stopping children from following the same route she had all those years ago. Helping Eddie by telling him that it was okay, his children came first. By letting Melissa have her way. By letting Phillip stay with her, as if she were his mother.

Telling Adam that she would leave Waterloo Road. She could do that for him- they were husband and wife now, right?

And despite all of that, she was still at home, sitting among piles of paperwork. Half of the items in her house were packed; Adam was coming to get them on Friday, now he had moved out. No missed calls from friends or family. Only Phillip.

She supposed she deserved it. Rachel was a fool for believing in happy endings.


	90. Love Across Time

**Love Across Time**

Listening to the clunk of the knife, the sharp thud as it sliced through the mushroom, striking the wooden board below. Rachel found it quite relaxing. She usually did; cooking was a peaceful time for her. It gave her a chance to forget everything and to concentrate on the dish being created before her.

From behind, she could hear a shuffling of feet. Eddie bent down to take a cold beer from the fridge, groaning slightly as he slowly stood upright. A clear indication of his aching back.

She had told him to put the beers near the top shelf- on the side. But he insisted that he was fine to keep putting them at the bottom. To do otherwise would admit defeat. However, in their old age, she thought it was appropriate to do whatever was necessary to avoid aches and pains.

"And what are we having tonight?" he mused, coming closer to watch her.

"Mushroom stroganoff. Is that to your taste, Mr Lawson?"

"Yes, Mrs Lawson. Very much so." He chuckled, his voice growing gravelly as time went on. "But you might want to be careful; that's a large pack of mushrooms. If you add all of them, there might not be mushroom for the pasta."

Rachel sighed. "Get away with you. Isn't the football on?"

He caught the suggestion and raised his brows, chuckling again. Kissing her on the cheek, he headed back to the living room. She made it clear that she didn't appreciate the joke, but she couldn't prevent the warm feeling in her chest. Even after all of these years, she loved how bad his jokes were.

* * *

Thank you again for your support! In regards to where I see Rachel in the future, I also hoped she had gone travelling for a while and then returned to Waterloo Road. Eventually, I like to think her and Adam got a divorce and, for whatever reason, she happened to get back in contact with Eddie. And they end up together forever at WR lmao. That's the dream.


	91. Four Seasons

**Four Seasons**

The first term always endured a lull, a moment for everyone to return to their daily routine before the flurry of work began. She had spent the summer planning her schedule and on returning to school, she waited for the other teachers to match her pace. It needn't matter; she was patient. As long as they came around eventually.

There were the stories of the students and teachers as they returned from holiday, sun-kissed and fresh-faced. And for something to look forward to, there was always the Halloween parties for the younger years, a month after they returned.

Not long after, there was her birthday. She had said it wasn't important, only a small matter, but Eddie had still bought her a present all the same. Not long after, they braved the windy, rainy day to return home together, hidden underneath their coats and scarves, their gloved hands clinging onto each other, despite the weather.

It persisted till the Christmas holiday, and it wasn't until they returned to school that it began to snow. Heavily. The students were delighted. Rachel had said it didn't matter if it snowed; they were coming in. Her speech was followed by a collection of sighs and a- "But, Miss!"

They had forgotten by spring. The teachers were busy with the extra work and the upcoming stress of exams; the students equally stressed. Rachel said there would be no cheating this time, her gaze falling on Steph and Grantly. They didn't appreciate the insinuation, but she hadn't forgotten what had happened.

But there was no need to worry. Most of the students passed, which was all they could ask for. The summer heat meaning that their blazers were in their bags or tied around their waists. Fanning themselves with the exam results, the teachers offered a congratulatory smile. Rachel clambered onto the stage, thanking everyone and applauding the students, though they were embarrassed by her enthusiasm. From the back of the hall, Eddie gave her a thumbs up.

The students left, some leaving that would never return. She said goodbye to them all, desperately trying not to cry. It would only embarrass them all. Taking the flowers up to her office, pleased with another year accomplished.

Eddie arrived later, his head peering around the door.

"Fancy a pint?"

And that was how her summer began.


	92. Sign

**Sign**

He told her no. Not in words but the shake of his head was clear, the look in his eyes. As if he was warning her. Begging her, even. Please don't.

But she couldn't help herself. She thought she could control her temper, her enthusiasm, but one look at the governor between them released another burst of irritation and she went after him. Slipping past the small throng of men, pardoning herself. Targeting one in particular. The one who had been the most vocal.

"Mr Donwell?" She plastered on her usual smile. Friendly, lovely, but rather intimidating. "I thought I should come over and clarify any questions you may have on our new project. It seems you have your reservations, but I'm here to assure you why our students will benefit from such a scheme, whilst still being in-budget. It really is a win-win situation."

Glancing across at Eddie, she could see his own irritation, the roll of his eyes. He had wanted her to be the bigger person, but she could not risk the chance of losing the bid. Not when it came to helping the students. She would do all she could, even if it meant speaking to Mr Donwell.


	93. Gunshot

**Gunshot**

It couldn't be real. Head reeling, the world spinning. As if she could hardly comprehend the shapes before her. The block of grey that was the school, the blur of colours that motioned the stampede of the students. And the screaming. The screams that echoed in her ears, her mind, so similar to the sounds of last year.

But it was hardly a year ago; it had been months, if that. And she could hardly think.

She couldn't even breathe. Staring up at that school as if she were rooted to the spot. As if she were buried once more under its rubble. Lifting herself from the crushing pressure above her, yet it wasn't really there. Even so, her body shook from the effort.

Rachel had struggled to believe the note, despite her anxieties. It was surely a lie. Some nasty hoax. But there it was.

The echoing of a gunshot, somewhere deep within the school. The world around her chaos, as if she were engulfed in a flame of her own making. But this time, she would not be the victim.


End file.
